Touch of Evil A Twist
by PhantomGirl1731
Summary: Crossover of sorts - not in the section because I didn't see a "Touch of Evil" section. Hard to explain...Dean and Sam respond to a vision of a woman who needs help fighting a group of psychic vampires. *Disclaimer inside* Dean/OC
1. Chapter 1

**This was my first ever fanfiction for Supernatural. Now I have a disclaimer here, and I hope it's okay to post this, it's a crossover of sorts. I was reading the book called "Touch of Evil" and could wondered what it would be like if the Winchesters were involved. This first story is like 98 - 99% "Touch of Evil" with a few changes made to fit the Supernatural line. I don't mean to do anything bad copywright wise - just a fun idea I thought of, but the Thrall and most characters involved in this story - besides Sam and Dean - belong to the writers of the series CT Adams and Cathy Clamp - some names were changed, others taken directly. **

**My character Max O'Reilly is loosely based off of the story's main character Kate Reilly - but essentially, Max and her crazy family are mine. And, if I am able to post the rest of the story, you will see how crazy they are. **

**Like I said, just an idea I had...at least one review, let me know if I should post the rest. I hope I gave enough credit to the writers of the book - I'm always paranoid about that. **

**I think I've covered everything...I hope you like the story.**

* * *

"**Touch of Evil (After the Book)"**

Dean Winchester slept soundly, and peacefully. Unless you happened to be able to see inside his mind, where he was having a nightmare…

_"What do you have those amped up to?" Sam asked._

_"100,000 volts," Dean answered, grabbing the weapons from the trunk of his Impala. _

_"Damn…"_

_"Yeah, well, I want this raw-head extra freakin' crispy," Dean shrugged. _

_He and Sam ran down into the basement of the abandoned house. Two kids were in the cupboard, and he told Sam to get them to safety as he went after the demon. He scrambled after it, trying to get good aim with the tazer, not realizing he'd ended up in the water until he'd fired, and electrocuted both the demon…and himself._

_He felt the pain again, and cried out. Darkness filled his mind, then the memory of the ambulance ride, and the sounds of heart monitors, beeping steadily…_

Until he'd opened his eyes, and realized that the beeping was his cell phone. He reached over and flipped it open, "Hello?"

_"Um…am I speaking to one of the Winchester boys?" _A man asked. He sounded nervous, and distracted.

"Yeah," Dean answered slowly, suspicious of the caller. "Who is this?"

_"My name is Jonathan Thompson; I am a priest at a church in Denver called Our Lady of Perpetual Hope—"_

"I'm familiar with the place," Dean said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He'd driven past it when they'd been staying in Denver years before.

_"Yes, well,"_ Jonathan said, _"A situation has come up, and I was instructed—"_

"You called our father, and his voicemail told you to call me," Dean recited. He gave a sigh, "What is the situation?"

_"Um…I will explain it upon your arrival," _the man said quickly, and cut the call.

Dean sighed, and closed the phone. "Sam, get your ass up!"

Sam jerked awake, then shook his head, "Dean, we have to get to—"

"Denver?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, and his eyes held confusion.

"A priest beat your vision by about five seconds," Dean told him, "What did you see?"

"There was this girl…"

"She hot?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "That's not the point…and I don't know, I didn't get a good look. I saw fangs…blood…"

"Vampires?" Dean then asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, and grimaced, "A whole lot of them…like a hive…all talking at once…"

"And you didn't see the girl?" Dean asked.

"Well…I saw she had this reddish-blonde hair…that was the only detail I could make out, everything else was in shadow…"

"Maybe part of it was a dream, and you saw Mary Jane Watson," Dean said.

There was a silence, followed by Sam's question, "Wait…what?"

"I have no idea…" Dean shook his head.

* * *

**Sooo...what do ya think? Should I post the rest?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok...here's the next part of the story. I'd still like a review or two, but thank you to the person that favorited my story. I'm glad you like it :D**

* * *

"There was another woman," Sam finally said.

Dean glanced at him, "Now there's two?"

"Yeah…" Sam nodded, trying to remember more of his vision. "She bit the redhead."

"On the arm?"

"Right," Sam said, "And she controlled the voices."

"Of the vampires."

"She controlled the vampires, yes…" Sam shook his head, "This is getting weirder by the second."

"And the things we've faced are so normal?" Dean asked, glancing at him again before turning his eyes back to the road.

They passed a sign that read _Welcome to Denver._ Sam began to hear a quiet buzzing noise, and looked around, "What's that sound?"

"What sound?" Dean asked.

"The buzzing," Sam said.

"What buzzing?"

"You don't hear it?"

"I hear the engine," Dean said, "I hear you yammering on about noises, but I don't hear any buzzing noise of any kind." He turned on his radio, and blared Metallica. "And now I hear music, but it's not buzzin'."

The buzzing began to fade into silence. But listening to Metallica wasn't on his list of things to listen to either. _I'd rather hear the buzzing,_ he thought.

Dean eventually pulled the car to a stop near a bar called Bernardo's. "We're low on cash," He explained, getting out of the car.

"And he probably wants a drink, and a girl," Sam muttered, and rolled his eyes, getting out as well.

The two Winchesters walked into the place, hearing the clack of breaking billiard balls, the latest array of rap music from the radio speakers, and the usual murmur of voices from bar patrons.

"I'll hit the pool tables," Dean said, "You…do whatever it is you do…maybe watch the door, see if vision-girl shows."

"Right," Sam nodded, rolling his eyes. "Just don't start any fights."

"Hey!" Dean snapped, then lowered his voice, "That only happened once…"

"No, it happened five times, if I recall," Sam smirked, "But good luck anyway."

Dean shot a glare his way, before starting a game with one of the players at the tables.

Sam chuckled, and then sat at the bar, watching as Dean played pool. He sipped the beer he'd ordered, and glanced at the door. There was something to Dean's theory, but he didn't see the girl, nor was he sure if she'd even show. _It's not like I had a vision where she was actually here,_ he thought.

That was when she walked in. He knew because the strawberry-blonde hair stood out in his memory, and, granted now it was slightly shorter, it was the same person. Besides, she matched the profile of the girl.

A younger man flanked her, and judging by the matching green eyes and the fact he also had red hair, Sam guessed it was her brother. Whomever they'd been waiting for probably hadn't showed, so they sat down.

He also saw that Dean noticed the redhead, and the look in his eye showed interest. But he kept to his original plan, hustle some money off the players, and get back to the bar. Red watched him play, and when his current opponent left, she challenged him.

Sam smiled at the massacre he knew was about to take place. Red had that look, power packed into a small package. _Or not so small…_ Red was 5-foot-9 easy, thin as she was, she wasn't scrawny, and Sam could see the toned muscles on her. _And she's got the look that means Dean's goin' down in a huge ball of flames…_

Sure enough, even when Dean finally played his best game, Red kicked his ass. She sank her final shot just as the doors opened once more and two men walked in. She glanced at them, then took Dean's wad of cash, and gave him a sarcastic pat on the shoulder as she joined the men. Dean's eyes went from his hustled wad of cash, to Sam, with a look that asked, _'What just happened here?'_ Then he glared when he saw Sam laughing at him from the bar. Dean flashed him the finger before joining another game. Seeing that only made Sam laugh harder.

Sam calmed down and went back to his drink. He alternated watching Dean play against a few drunken bikers, _Probably not a good idea…_and the redhead from his vision. Dean lost a game; a picture was shown to Red. Dean eventually won a few bucks, and the older man that sat across from Red pulled out his wallet, thumbing through a large wad of cash. Sam's eyes widened and he did a double take.

"Matt!" the man who'd entered with him gasped in shock.

"What?" The answer was defiant and aggressive.

"Apparently _that_ was unexpected," Sam muttered, finishing off his beer.

Red was still in a conversation, and the younger man across from her wrote something on a card, and handed it to her. Red grasped his hand, and the man flinched, and tried to pull away.

"That's weird," Sam frowned, as he saw the scene play out. The man was changing, becoming weaker somehow…

It was at this moment that Dean had managed to hustle yet another large wad of cash. Just as he was heading back with another the money, the joker he'd swindled grabbed his shoulder. "I don't think you're done here…"

Dean stiffened, and the redhead got to her feet. Dean faced the drunk, "What?"

"I think you hustled us!" the drunken biker snapped. He had three buddies with him, all as drunk as he was.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but the biker clocked him in the face. When Dean responded with a kick to the biker's gut that made the guy drop like a rock, his buddies jumped him. Sam jumped into the fray, followed by Red. She yanked the drunken biker off Dean first, sent a knee to his face, and shoved him aside.

"There's an all-night coffee shop across the street," Red snapped. "Go take your buddies and cool off."

"Sorry O'Reilly!" The leader said, through his grip on his bleeding nose. The bikers scrambled away, and out the door.

"You'd find their pictures under the dictionary term, _'Jackass'_," Red shook her head. "Are you guys all right?"

The brothers nodded. Sam had taken a punch, but had done more damage than he received. Dean had taken quite a few hits, but his face didn't hold much bruising. He was lying on the floor, catching his breath.

"First night in town," Red smiled, holding out her hand, "And you're already getting into bar fights."

"Wasn't the intention," Dean said, taking the offered hand.

"Well, that's what you get for hustling in this place."

"I wasn't—" Dean began, but cut off at the girl's look. "Well…you did it to me!"

"Probably can't say you didn't have it coming."

Dean glared, and Sam smirked at him, "Thanks for your help…and for out-hustling him."

"Eh, figured while I was here," She shrugged. "Name's Max."

"I'm Sam," He motioned at the older one, "That's Dean."

Max was about to say something, but the door opened again. She sighed, and turned to face the woman, who upon seeing her, screamed, _"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing with _my_ husband?"_

"Friend of yours?" Dean smirked.

"Used to be," Max sighed. "Dylan asked to see me, Clarissa."

"Dylan wouldn't _ask_ to see you," Clarissa snarled. "What would he want with you?"

"What he used to want before he started bangin' you," Max growled. The Winchesters heard it; apparently though, Clarissa didn't, or was just ignorant.

"What did you say?"

"Nothin'," Max rolled her eyes. She sighed, "Claire, Dylan left me five messages in two days…then called me just this morning, and that doesn't strike you as _odd_?"

Clarissa still scowled, "Queen Monica would _never_ send Dylan to talk to you."

"I gathered that from the way he turned into a drooling zombie," Max pointed.

Clarissa gave a 'huff' of annoyance, and walked over to Dylan, kneeling beside him before smacking him across the face.

Both Winchesters started toward her, but Max held out her arms to keep them at bay. "I don't like it either," She murmured. "I just wish she didn't."

"Dylan, wake up and tell me what the hell is going on!" Clarissa snapped, going back for another blow.

Max rushed forward, and gripped her arm, "Dylan asked me to find Dusty."

"Who?"

"Your niece, Darlene," Max said, "She's goin' by Dusty now. He asked me to find her." She sighed, "And, I _do_ think that this has something to do with Dylan's _masters_…that's why he didn't tell them he was contacting me…and now he's facing Monica's wrath."

Clarissa yanked her arm out of Max's grip, and glared. Whatever Max had been implying, Clarissa finally understood. And didn't take it lightly.

_"You lying bitch!"_ Clarissa leapt at Max, who went wide-eyed, as she was pinned against a table, with Clarissa's hands at her throat.

Sam ran forward quickly, and tried to pull Clarissa away, but received a kick to his stomach that sent him scrambling backwards.

Clarissa pressed on Max's windpipe, cutting off her air supply. The girl tensed her neck and shoulder muscles, so she'd have to work at choking her.

"Look ma," Max choked, a cocky smile on her face, "No hands…"

A booted foot went between them, as the table tipped when Max let go. When it fell, she rolled to the side, taking the strangling mass with her. The foot kicked, and Clarissa went flying into the pool table across the room, knocking the racked up balls around, some clunking her in the head.

Max shot to her feet, with a cue stick in hand, ready to fight, yet hacking from the chokehold.

"Back off, O'Reilly," The bouncer snapped, snatching the stick.

Max opened her mouth and then started laughing through her coughing. Sam looked from her to the bouncer, then to Dean, who caught on, and smiled.

"What's so funny?" Sam wheezed, still out of breath from Clarissa's kick.

"Well, my first instinct," Max said, still giggling slightly, "Was to say, _'she started it'_."

"Never a truer word," Dean pointed out.

"Then I guess my answer is, _'and I'm finishing it,'_" the bouncer smiled and then rounded on Clarissa. As she got up, the bouncer told her, "If the slate is cracked, I'm sendin' you a bill."

The woman glared at him, "You can send _Max_ the bill, thank you very much, _I'm_ the injured party here."

"Not from where I was standing," the bouncer growled, "And I've got two witnesses who will testify to that. Now take your drooling zombie and get out!"

Clarissa smirked, and dragged Dylan out of the bar.

Max sighed, which caused a slight coughing fit. The bartender handed her a glass of water, which she drank, slowly.

"Aren't you the popular one," Dean said, smirking slightly. He helped Sam over to the bar, and sat him on a stool.

"That's me," Max shrugged, then turned to Sam, "Are you okay?" She noted his arm was draped around his stomach, and he still wasn't breathing normally. "I didn't know she was that strong…apparently, she decided to hit the gym."

"I'm okay," Sam assured her.

Max then frowned at them, "Sam and Dean…are you the Winchester boys?"

They exchanged looks, "What makes you say that?"

"A friend of mine, and a meddlesome brother, mentioned the two of you," Max said, her gaze darkening. "Did a priest named Jonathan call you?"

Their lack of an answer was all she needed. Max's lips curled until her mouth was a thin line. "You may as well meet the man who called you." She got to her feet, "Follow me."

She walked past the bouncer, "Sorry, Ralph…normally I'd help—"

"I understand," Ralph nodded. "You're coming back to clean this mess up though."

"Right," Max said, with one of those grins that said, _'I guess I backed into that one.'_ She led them toward a four-story brick building. "You have a car?"

Dean was already headed toward the Impala, and Max whistled.

"Nice car…"

"Don't touch it though," Sam said, "He'll break your fingers."

"I'd like to see him try," Max smirked, and headed down into the parking garage.

"What'd you tell her that for?" Dean said, glaring at him.

"Because it's true," Sam shrugged. "You freaked when that shape shifter was ridin' in it."

They were both in the Impala, still arguing, when the green Ford pickup came out of the parking garage. Max's head poked out the driver's side window, "You'll hafta follow me boys, 'cause I ain't givin' directions. You get lost, that's your problem, not mine."

The truck took off, with the Impala right behind it.

"She doesn't like us too much, does she?" Sam asked rhetorically.

"And how many people do at first?" Dean shot back.

A good fifteen minutes, and three red lights later, Max's truck pulled into the parking lot of a small church. She got out, slamming the door behind her. She waited for their car to pull to a stop, and for them to get out. Her irritation had turned to disgust when she looked at them, and had nothing to say. She turned on her heel, and headed for the church.

Max threw open both doors, causing them both to hit the walls with a loud CRACK!

Sam glanced at Dean and the silent agreement passed, _"Don't make her mad."_

"Jonathan!" Max shouted, her voice echoing off the stone.

The man came from the back room, looking tired beyond belief. When he saw the three of them standing in the doorway, he paled, and was wide-awake now. "Um…Max…how are you—?"

"They…_implied _that you called them, Johnny," Max said in an eerily calm voice. "You've mentioned the Winchesters before. Explained who they were and what they did."

"I know…" Jonathan tugged at his collar.

"So why are they here?" Max gave him a scary-sweet smile. "I take care of the ghost things around here, they're not needed."

"I was worried," Jonathan burst out. "I was afraid with Monica pushing for her replacement that you'd be—"

Max grimaced, "I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass…" She shook her head, "Johnny, I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. Monica has been at bay for the past four years, I think she can wait."

"Monica's _dying_, Max," Jonathan said. "She _can't _wait."

"Uh, can we ask a question here?" Dean cut in, "What the hell is going on here?"

Jonathan and Max both gave exasperated sighs. Jonathan motioned to the pews, "Sit down, and we will explain the situation as best as we can."

"Make yourselves comfortable," Max said, sitting on the back of one of them, balancing her feet on the seat-part, "This will take a while."

"Okay…well, we'd first better explain the Thrall," Jonathan said. "It's basically made up of vampires. It's divided up into Host, Herd, Prey, and Not Prey. Prey are regular humans, like you and me. Any human that hasn't been bitten, or proven themselves in some way, is considered _'prey'_."

"Charming thought," Dean frowned.

"The Hosts and Herd are what you watch out for. Herd are humans that carry a Thrall bite, but can also be controlled by them. Well…even Prey can be controlled by the Thrall, but Herd are…"

"Herd are bitten, and are stuck with the Thrall forever," Max cut him off. "They're almost the same as Hosts, but Hosts carry the vampire parasite, and will die off faster, because the human body can't handle it. They're stronger and faster than the Herd. Except the Herd do just fine on their own," She grimaced, her hand going to the back of her head.

"That attack was all the more reason to call the Winchesters," Jonathan pointed out.

Max held up three fingers, "Read between the lines."

"I'm just saying," Jonathan shrugged.

"They think like a Hive mind," Max went on. "Think Hive of bees. With the queen to be the leader. Which is what Monica is; she's the queen of the hive. But she's dying, and needs her replacement."

"Which is why Dylan asked you to find Dusty?" Jonathan's statement was more of a question.

"Her stepfather would gladly hand her over to the Thrall if need be," Max answered. "She's got two choices already lined up, and if one stays hidden, we'll do okay."

"So Dusty is going to be the next queen, unless you can stop it?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, unless Monica finds yet another replacement," Max shrugged. "Anyway, where were we?" She frowned, "Ah yes. Finishing off with the queen. Monica needs her replacement before she dies. And only she can make another queen. Such as the ways of the vampires."

"So where do you fall into these categories?" Dean asked.

"Not Prey," Max answered. "Not that that status matters at the moment, but it's true. I shouldn't be threatened."

"But you are," Sam pointed out, "Jonathan wouldn't have called us otherwise."

Max shrugged again, "Guess I'm admitting defeat then?"

"Not defeat," Jonathan said. "You're getting extra allies."

"Whatever," Max shook her head. She checked the time, "We done here? I sent Charlie home to watch over the boys, I shudder to think what happened while I was gone."

"Fine," Jonathan nodded.

Max didn't say anything else, but headed for the door.

"Oh…where are they gonna stay?" Jonathan frowned, "I really don't have the room here—"

"They can stay with me," Max shrugged. "Motels are packed this time of year, and I've got plenty of room…one can have the bed, the other can have the sofa…and I'll curl up in the closet, where the monsters can't get me."

"Max," Jonathan groaned, grabbing his forehead.

Dean smiled, "I think I'm beginning to like this girl."

"Laughs in the face of death like you," Sam shook his head, then said quietly so only Dean could hear, "Not gonna happen."

* * *

**Love it? Hate it? Let me know**


	3. Chapter 3

***

"So…that's what you saw in your vision?" Dean asked, "The girl, the Thrall?"

"Probably," Sam said, frowning. "I saw someone get bitten…I just saw the arm…and fangs…"

"Anything else?" Dean asked, pulling into the parking garage behind Max's truck.

"Yeah…I think I did see Max," Sam frowned. "It had to be years ago…she looked a lot younger, and her hair was longer."

"What happened?"

"She was bitten," Sam said. "But since she's Not Prey, something different happened. I just don't know what."

"I dunno," Dean frowned, "But this whole vampire-parasite thing is really creepin' me out."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "Out of all the things we've seen…definitely one of the worse ones."

"Hey Hardy boys!" Max said, "Come on, I ain't waitin' all night!"

They locked the Impala, and grabbed their bags. Max waited at the stairs, arms folded. "We're takin' the stairs."

"What'd we do?" Dean teased.

"Nothin'," Max answered. "Just a rule. Unless you're movin' in, you don't get to use the elevator."

"Darn," Dean smirked.

Max rolled her eyes, and continued up the stairs.

Sam grimaced, and rubbed at his ears, before asking, "What's that buzzing noise?"

"That again?" Dean asked, and turning to look at him.

"You don't hear it?"

"No, I don't," Dean shook his head, "I don't hear a thing."

Max paused, "Are you psychic?"

"What?" Sam asked, still cringing slightly.

"Do you have psychic abilities?" Max asked.

"I get visions from time to time," Sam shrugged.

Max nodded thoughtfully, "It's the Thrall. They all talk at once. It's like a constant buzzing. You eventually learn to shut them out." She shook her head, "At least you don't have Monica talkin' to you all the time, tellin' you how she's gonna…" She then frowned, "Never mind. Loud music normally drowns her out…Green Day, AC/DC, lots of stuff."

"You actually listen to Green Day?" Dean smirked.

"I listen to everything," Max said. "Except rap. Certain songs, yes. But most of it…" She stuck her tongue out, and grimaced. "Blech."

A door opened up on the second floor, "Max, your brothers are at it again."

"Thanks Justin," Max sighed, glancing up the stairs.

"Who're they?" Justin asked, blinking at them through his glasses. "They don't smell right."

The brothers exchanged glances. Even Max raised her eyebrows at that, "Justin that wasn't nice."

"I mean," Justin shook his head. "They give off a weird vibe, that's all."

"They're the Winchester brothers," Max said. "Jonathan mentioned them."

"Oh," Justin said, nodding. "Oh." His voice changed, "Um…well. You know where to find me if you need me." And the door closed with a snap.

"Don't ask," Max said, as both heads turned toward her. "I'll explain it later, but right now…" They could hear the thumping from one floor above, and Max sighed.

"How many do you have up there?" Sam asked, as the bumps and voices grew louder.

"Three," Max sighed. "Charlie came with me to the bar, plus my younger ones, Noah and Luke."

"And they live here with you?" Dean asked.

"Well…I converted the extra space on my floor so they'd kinda have their own apartment," Max explained. "I didn't think they'd want their older sister hovering." She reached a door, where a crudely made sign taped to it read, _'Max's apartment. Vampires and other supernatural creatures beware.'_

"Nice sign," Dean said, cocking his eyebrows at it.

"Luke made it," Max smiled and shook her head. "He was staying in the day care at my high school. The teacher took me out of one of my classes, and asked what it was about." She sighed, "I had to tell her he meant that I made all the vampires and things he was afraid of go away. I just implied that he was talking about his bad dreams."

She unlocked the door, and instantly the noise level increased.

"I said it was my turn!" A voice shouted.

"It was your turn last night!" A second voice snapped.

"Hey, let me get a shot!" A third, which sounded younger than the rest, complained.

"For the love of…" Max grimaced, and walked in, heading for her living room.

"Wow…" Sam said, realizing the size of the place. He was sure it took up half of the third and fourth floors alone. Her living room was sunken slightly, and she was headed down the few steps, arms folded, glaring at the three boys, wrestling over the TV remote.

"Boys!" Max snapped, and group froze. "We have company."

The three looked at Sam, then looked at Dean, and asked, "Who are they?"

"You remember when Johnny talked about the Winchesters?" Max asked.

"The rifles?" The oldest asked.

"Nope," Max sighed. "The brothers, you know, he mentioned John Winchester, and his sons Dean and Sam?"

"Oh, those Winchesters," The second nodded.

"You still don't have any idea who I'm talking about, do you?" Max asked.

"I remember 'em!" The youngest said, "Jonathan mentioned them after he explained about the ghosts!"

"Right," Max nodded. "Now, guys, can you go to your place _and_ behave?"

"Sure," One said.

"Whatever," The youngest shrugged.

The oldest brother, who looked a couple of years younger than Sam, didn't meet Max's gaze. She sighed, "Charlie…?"

"I'm going," Charlie said, "I'm going." The three closed the door behind them.

Max smiled, "At least they didn't make…" She frowned as she saw her kitchen, filled with dirty dishes, "A mess…" She walked into the area, and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. The thing was filled before she closed the door after the last dish. "I'll wash 'em tomorrow…""Why not just push a button and do it now?" Dean asked.

"Eh," Max shrugged, "Thing doesn't work anyway. Can't bring myself to call the guy to fix it…oh well."

"So…how's this gonna work?" Dean asked.

"Normally you put the dishes in the sink, they soak—"

"Sleepin' arrangements," Dean rolled his eyes.

"Jeez, can't you take a joke?" Max rolled her eyes as well. She shook her head, "One of you can have the bed, and the other can take the couch."

"Then what about you?" Sam asked.

"Downstairs with whoever gets the sofa," Max shrugged. "And pull your mind out of the gutter, Dean."

"I didn't say a word!" Dean snapped.

"You really didn't need to," Sam shook his head, not fighting the smile on his face.

"You guys decide," Max said, heading upstairs, "I'll go get blankets for the sofa-king."

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter, "Call it in the air."

"Heads," Dean said, as Sam caught it and slapped it down on his wrist.

"Tails," Sam shook his head.

"All hail the sofa king," Max called from the floor above, and did a mock bow.

"All right," Dean scowled, "Laugh it up."

"Heads up!" Max then announced, and dropped the blankets and pillows she'd retrieved on Dean's head.

The pillows bounced off him, and the blankets covered him like a hooded-cloak. He just stood stock-still, an annoyed look on his now-shadowy face.

"Oh, I intend to," Sam said, already laughing. "All hail the sofa king."

Dean tried to show him the finger, but the blankets blocked his hand. He yanked the blankets off, and grabbed a pillow, smacking it into Sam's laughing face.

"Play nice boys," Max said, stepping off the staircase. She grabbed one of the blankets and yanked her pillow from Dean's hand, then headed for the blue recliner in the corner of her living room.

"Good night Max," Sam said, heading for the stairs, "And good night your highness."

Dean rolled his eyes, and grabbed the blanket and pillow, heading for the sofa. _Oh, this is gonna be a reeeeeaaally fun job,_ he thought.

* * *

**Reviews are what motivate me to post more...and write more. Please, someone, drop a review. Love it, hate it, think blind monkey ninjas should waltz in on cottage cheese? Let me know. **

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**New chapter -- and thanks for the review eminemchick15, I'm glad you're enjoying the story :D**

* * *

***

_"Come on," Dean said, heading down the hall of the asylum, "We gotta find Ellicott's bones and torch 'em."_

_"How? The police never found his body," Sam said. _

_"His log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his patients. So if I was a patient I'd drag his ass down here and do a little work on him myself."_

_"I don't know, it sounds kinda—"_

_"Crazy?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Yeah," Dean agreed, and then walked into another room. _

_Sam followed, and pointed out, "I told you, I looked everywhere, I didn't find a hidden room."_

_"Well, that's why they call it hidden," Dean smirked. _

_A stray breeze created a whistling sound. _

_"Hear that?" Dean asked, kneeling on the ground._

_"What?" Sam asked. _

_"There's a door here," Dean said, feeling the breeze coming in through a gap near the floor. _

_"Dean," Sam said, almost in a hiss._

_Dean turned, and found himself looking down the barrel of Sam's shot gun. He slowly got to his feet, "Sam, put the gun down."_

_"Is that an order?" Sam asked, irritation in his voice._

_"Ah, it's more of a friendly request," Dean said calmly._

_"'Cause I'm getting pretty tired of takin' your orders," Sam snapped. _

_"Ah-ha," Dean said quietly, "I knew it…Ellicott did something to you, didn't he?"_

_"For once in your life, just shut your mouth—"_

_"What're you gonna do Sam? Gun's filled with rock salt, it's not gonna kill me—" His voice was cut off by the gunshot, and the wooden door shattered as he was blasted through it. _

_"No," Sam said, as blood dripped from his nose, "But it'll hurt like hell."_

Dean jerked, and rolled off the sofa. He narrowly avoided hitting the coffee table, and he stood up on his knees. He glanced around, worry setting in at the sight of the unfamiliar room, and wondering where Sam was. "Sammy?"

"Your brother's upstairs," A voice said quietly.

Dean shook his head, and saw Max sitting at the bar in her kitchen, looking at him through small, oval-shaped, glasses. "Thanks for the update."

Max shrugged, and went back to her book.

Dean frowned, "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"I should be," Max agreed, "But I couldn't. Therefore, I'm here, researching."

"Researching what?" Dean asked, getting to his feet. "From how you were explaining things earlier, I figured that you were an expert."

"Of all the things I know…it feels like the Thrall is the least of it," Max sighed. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Couple more days, and the queen bitch is toast…"

"Then what?"

"Then all her army is dead," Max frowned. "All the hosts die…which kills a lot of people…" Sighed again, "I'm sorry, but I'm a selfish person, I may not have the best life, but I sure as hell don't wanna be a stinkin' Host for the queen mother to lay her eggs in…"

"I thought they wanted that…Dusty, girl," Dean frowned.

"We're both choices," Max sighed. "They really go in for the psychics…it's a hive mind…they all talk at once…gives you a nasty headache after a while…"

Dean glanced at the ceiling, where his brother slept one floor above.

"I don't think they'll go after him," Max assured him. "I think Monica would rather see me with her hatchling, rather than your brother."

"They choose guys to be queens?" Dean said in disbelief.

Max nodded, "I killed the one that sired Monica…he was this hairy guy, with a pot belly, disgusting pig…" She shivered, "He was gonna sire me too, and have us fight. He figured I'd win, I was stronger…" She gripped her black jacket, and tightened it around her shoulders.

"You okay?" Dean asked gently.

Max squirmed, "No…not really…I just…really want this to be over…_and_ I want to live to see the end…not be the cause of it."

"Well, that's why me and Sam are here," Dean said cockily, "We're here to help. And protect."

"Yeah, but have you encountered vampires before?" Max asked, putting her glasses back on.

"Well…no," Dean sighed. "Actually not."

"Then you should know, you can't go into her lair, guns a blazin'," Max gave a small smile, "Sends a bad message."

"Any other rules for around here?" Dean asked, finally grabbing a barstool and sitting across from her.

"The werewolves," Max said, folding her arms. "You don't touch them."

"Why not?"

"Because around here, werewolves are civilized," Max explained. "They're different, not dangerous…although they're not allowed to drive cars, they might change. But they don't go after innocents. So leave them alone."

"Anything else?"

"Justin Brooks, downstairs," Max said, "He's a werewolf. You and your brother be nice."

"Why aren't you telling all this to him too?" Dean asked defensively.

"Because I can tell you're the one that's gonna have the problems here," Max said. "I'm just laying down the ground rules. Subject to change, or be added on to. I'll get the rules to him, but if I can't, that's your job, get it?"

"Got it."

"Good," Max smiled warmly for a second. Then she grabbed a book, and dropped it in front of him, "Make yourself useful."

Dean waved away the dust, "And what am I supposed to be looking for?"

"I heard something about alcohol," Max said, waving her hand around as she skimmed the page. "It destroys the eggs or something…I'm trying to find a way, _any_ way to do it."

"And what happens if you can't?"

"Then you and your brother have to make sure both of us are safe," Max said, not looking at him. "I'm protecting Dusty, then you do your jobs, babysitting me."

"And…I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to get to the worst case scenario here," Dean said, "Sorry, but I wanna know what we're gonna be up against, should a new Queen rise."

"Same old story," Max said. "But you and your brother can be on your way, as long as it's not me that's the queen."

"You really didn't answer my question," Dean said.

"Then ask me point blank, don't ask a side-stepping question," Max snapped.

"I did, and you still side-stepped the question!" Dean snapped.

"Fine, you want to know?" Max snapped, "I get turned, get the hell out of Dodge. And take my family and friends with you! That's what the worst case scenario is! With me as the Hive leader, my family is gonna die. _At my hands!_ Then you're probably gonna be next, or first, whatever order Queen Rosemary-Maxine decides to do. Then my friends…you all will either be food, or Hosts."

"Rosemary-Maxine?" Dean then asked. He'd gotten his answer, and wanted to smile when he saw he'd made Max blush.

"That's my first name…Rosemary-Maxine Marianna O'Reilly," Her face blended with her strawberry-blonde hair, not matching it obviously, but it wasn't clashing. "My brothers and I thought that Rosemary-Maxine was too long, and because I was the only girl out of four, they decided I needed a short…for lack of a better term, _boyish_ nickname."

"So they settled on _'Max'_."

"Well, it _is_ quicker than saying _'Mary'_, and they really didn't want to tag along and have to call me _'Rose'_ all the time. Not masculine enough I guess," Max shrugged. "Oh well, I like my nickname, and that's why I tell people my name's _'Max'_."

"Besides, I don't think people would respect you the way they do if they called you _'Rose'_," Dean admitted. "I mean, they would, but…and don't take this the wrong way…but they would expect you to be an elegant, classy, lady. Not…you…the street-smart, ass-kicking, respected, intimidating woman." Dean wasn't sure what made him say all of it, but he found he meant it. It was worth it to see Max blush again, though she focused more on her book to hide it. _At least I didn't offend her,_ he thought with relief.

"We're doing too much talkin'," Max said, a small smile on her face again. "We need to be readin'."

"Whatever you say," Dean smirked. "Rosemary-Maxine."

"Shut up."

* * *

**Sooo...what'd ya think?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's a longer post...I wanted to post the story in installments, but considering how long it is...there's a lot more where this one came from. It's just takin' sooooo long to get the whole thing up...**

* * *

***

Dean opened his eyes, to find sunlight streaming through the windows. _No nightmare this time…_He was still half-asleep, despite that lone thought, when something rumbled on his chest. He shot up with a yell, and the black furry cat leapt off him with a hiss. "What the hell?"

"For Pete's sake, it's just a cat!" Max snapped, though she was clearly laughing at the spectacle.

The cat leapt up the steps, and went straight for Max. It turned and gave Dean a glare and yet another hiss, then curled up by Max's feet.

"When did that cat get there?" Dean scowled, glaring at the cat, and getting to his feet.

"'Bout an hour ago," Max shook her head, still chuckling. "I've never seen her do that before…guess she likes you."

Dean smirked, "Chicks usually do."

"And I thought you were smarter than that," Max said to the cat, who squirmed, and Max sighed, "And that's my foot, not a pillow."

"I didn't see that cat last night," Dean frowned, getting up and walking over to the bar.

Max smirked, "Your shirt's covered in cat fur."

Dean scowled again, and wiped at the fur. "Never did like cats."

"Try having a dog that sheds," Max shook her head, "The Great Pyrenees sheds in huge clumps of fur!" She sighed, "I wish I had a dog…then I could kick this thing outta my apartment." She nudged the cat with her free foot, but the cat didn't move.

"Why is it here?"

"Allison, the lady downstairs, she owns this ball of fur," Max shook her head, "It likes me for some reason, so it follows me around when I'm home…I need to make it a rule, if you have a pet, keep it in your own apartment."

Sam came through the door next, "Delivery…coffee and doughnuts."

"SHH!" Max hissed, "They might hear you."

"The dough—"

"My brothers," Max said quietly. "It's like a sixth sense or something…"

"I cannot believe that anybody could sense when doughnuts were in the vicinity," Sam shook his head.

Two heads poked through the door; "Did we hear doughnuts?"

"They say seeing is believing, Sammy," Dean shook his head.

"_Sam_."

"Whatever."

"Hey, he's like you," Noah said, nudging his brother with his elbow, "Eh Lucas?"

"Luke," Luke snapped.

"See?" Noah asked, "Doughnuts?"

"Help yourself," Max sighed. The boys ran over, and each grabbed a doughnut. "Oy! You ain't trackin' crumbs everywhere! Grab a paper towel, or a plate!"

The boys did so, and Noah grumbled something on the way out.

"What was that?" Max snapped.

Noah's head shot toward her, "Nothin'."

Max frowned, and waved them both off. "Close the door on the way out."

Noah shut the door quickly, and Max sighed. "Annoying little brat. He's been doing that for years…"

"What?" Sam asked.

Max said in a mocking tone, "_'Mom didn't make me use a plate…'_" She sighed, "I am not our mother…I can't be mom…" She sighed, "I really thought he'd out grown that…" She shook her head, and got to her feet. As she headed for the stairs, she disturbed the cat, which yowled and moved to another corner of the room.

"Dude…why do you have black fur on your shirt?" Sam asked.

"Shedding season," Dean said, finally grabbing one of the coffees Sam brought. "Damn cat thought I was a pillow."

Max came back down stairs, fully dressed, and grabbed her black leather biker jacket. "I'm goin' out."

"Is that safe?" Sam asked.

"Sam," Max paused at the door, "You gotta remember something. No place is safe, and trust nobody but your family."

As the door closed, Sam raised his eyebrows; "God made two of 'em."

"Two of what?" Dean asked, skimming through a notepad.

He glanced at Dean, "Nothing," He shook his head, "Never mind."

"Guess she never did find out that thing…" Dean muttered, reading through the pages.

"What thing?" Sam asked.

"She said alcohol kills the vampire eggs," Dean said, still skimming through the notes.

"Wait, wait…_eggs_?" Sam cringed, "Vampires lay eggs?"

"Yeah, in the victim's arm," Dean frowned, "So…Max's getting bitten…whether she likes it or not."

"Monica's gonna lay eggs in Max's arm," Sam frowned. He gave a slight shiver, "That's just…_wrong_…"

"Eh, eggs in the arm, it ain't so bad," Dean shrugged.

"This from the man who freaks out if there's a rat in the room," Sam smirked.

Dean, who was sipping coffee, put the cup down, and smiled, "And congratulations, Psychic Wonder, you have the opportunity to be egg-layin' royalty."

Sam grimaced, "Why me and not you?"

"I believe I covered that topic with the term, _'Psychic Wonder'_," Dean shook his head, "You're getting slow, College Boy."

Max was in her almost-completely-finished lobby, when a voice called her name. "Zip's in my apartment, Allison."

"That's good," Allison sighed in relief. "I was afraid she'd run off again." It was quiet for a moment, before Allison said, "So, Justin says you got two guys in your apartment."

"Nice segue," Max shook her head. She grabbed her cell phone, and flipped to her most recent picture, "Zip turned one into a pillow."

"Oh, he's cute!" Allison said in a sweet voice.

"You said the same thing when Boo Radley was revealed," Max shook her head again, and clipped the phone back onto her belt.

"So, you gonna date him?"

"Can you say, jumping the gun?" Max asked, "I just met the man last night."

"And…?" Allison asked, "And, why is your face getting red?"

Max felt her face, and felt the heat radiating off her skin. "I repeat, I just met the man…" She trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief, "I'm trying to discuss the rules of dating with the real-life Blanche Devereaux…" She shook her head, "I gotta go, Ally. We won't be discussing this later."

"And your face is getting darker than your hair," Allison smirked.

"Gah!" Max groaned in defeat, and marched out the doors. She was at the end of the street when Allison's voice called out, "Hey! That Boo Radley thing was in the eleventh grade!"

"You still said it though," Max called back. She turned the corner, and her phone rang, and answered, "Now what?"

"_You know,"_ Allison's voice teased on the other end, _"He is really cute…maybe I'll introduce myself and—"_

"Go near him and I'll—" Max realized what she was saying, and gripped her phone tightly. "Ally!" She shouted in frustration. "You get off this topic, or you're evicted!"

"_I know you wouldn't do that,"_ Allison's smirk was visible in her mind's eye. _"You're too nice a person."_

Max's hand shook, her frustration reaching its limits. She took a deep breath, then counted to ten. "Ally, Dean and Sam are just guys…more like allies. I've just met them. Drop the subject, or I'll drop you."

"_Which one's the hottie?"_

"GAH!" Max snapped, and clapped the phone shut. She now noticed that everyone who was out walking had stopped, and started staring at her. "Oh right, like none of you have ever had a frustrating friend?"

The scene unfroze, and people began moving again. Max shook her head, feeling her face go red. _What the hell is wrong with me? Why is this getting on my nerves…?_

She could hear Allison's voice in her head, _"Because you like Dean."_ The voice was drawn out and teasing, like Allison used to do when they were younger. That's what happened when you had a friend like Allison, who's been around as far back as you could remember.

"Shut up Ally," Max grumbled, heading down the street. She could hear Allison snickering and teasing her for the next three blocks.

***

"You find anything?" Dean asked.

Sam looked up from the laptop, "Vampires are parasites, they settle at the base of the brainstem, live off human blood…" He clicked a key, "Their bodies can't survive, the Host dies, and the parasite gets a new victim."

"Nothing about the eggs?"

"Nope," Sam shook his head. "Though, I doubt that that kind of information would be put on a website, displayed to the public."

"Yeah, guess so."

"Did she say where she heard it from?"

"Nope."

"What do you suggest?" Sam then asked.

"You go talk to wolf man," Dean said, rising to his feet. "I'll go find Max."

"That's a good plan," Sam smirked.

"Hey, I figured you'd want to know about that new form of werewolf," Dean shrugged.

Sam cocked an eyebrow, but didn't say a word.

"What?" Dean asked. Sam continued to stare at him, "Dude, Jonathan called us to watch out for her. Why are you giving me that look?"

Sam shook his head, and got to his feet, "No reason I guess. But I'll go talk to Justin, see if he knows anything else that we don't."

"And I'll go track down Max," Dean nodded, both heading out the door.

The door, wide as it was, was not wide enough to let them both out at the same time. They got jammed in the frame, both repeatedly trying to get out at once. Dean stepped back, and Sam passed through.

Dean shook his head, and headed down the stairs. The cat followed him, and ran ahead.

A bleach-blonde woman picked the cat up, "Dammit, Zip! Don't run off like that anymore."

"You're the one that owns the cat?" Dean asked.

"Allison Smith," Allison replied. "I take it you were Zip's pillow."

"What?"

"I guess you didn't know Max has a picture of you in her phone," Allison shook her head, "You're fast asleep, and Zip here is curled up on your chest."

"Lovely," Dean rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't happen to know where Max is, do you?"

"Nope, sorry Hun," Allison shook her head. "But, if you don't mind, can I get your name?"

"Dean," He replied, "And if you meet my brother, his name's Sam."

"I'll remember that," Allison nodded. "Charlie mentioned that one of Max's clients had a job for her to do, she's probably gone to meet him."

"Client?"

"Max's a bonded courier," Allison nodded. "Goes from place to place, delivering goods, that kind of thing."

"I'm familiar with the concept," Dean said, "But I don't know who the client was."

"I do," Charlie said, coming down the stairs. "You're looking for Max?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"I don't think she's going to the client," Charlie said. "But she's probably going to the mall on 16th street. We know all the vendors, she's probably lookin' for information."

"All right," Dean said, "Mall on 16th…guess I'll start there."

"A word of warning though," Charlie said, "If Max finds out you're trailing her…you might want to guard yourself."

"Right," Dean frowned, and headed for the door.

"Oh, that's a good law for my kingdom," Charlie's voice carried to the door, "If you spy on someone, you will lose your tools."

Dean couldn't help but laugh at that, and carried on, "I'd hate to live where that was a law…"

"The one for treason is worse," Charlie said.

Dean paused, "Do I even want to know?"

"Your back is filled with molten hot pokers," Charlie said. "From your shoulders, to your belt. No drugs or alcohol to numb the pain either."

"What the hell kinda kingdom you runnin' there?" Allison asked, slightly sickened at the thought.

"Not a very nice one," Charlie said.

Dean walked out the door, shaking his head as he went. "Wish I'd had classes like that back when I was in school…"

***

"Hey Pete," Max smiled, walking up to the vendor.

Pete sold sunglasses, and, like most vendors on the street, always kept his ear to the ground, finding information on pretty much anything. Max was interested in both today.

"Max," Pete nodded. "Not good timing…"

"Why?" Max asked, concerned.

"Didn't you hear?" Pete asked.

"Monica wants me dead," Max shrugged it off. "I can handle it."

"No," Pete shook his head. "That is far from it. Monica wants you_ alive._"

"Yeah, I know," Max said grimly. "I just didn't think anyone else knew."

"_Everyone_ knows!"

Max swallowed roughly, _So not what I wanted to hear._ "That just made my day," She sighed.

"You need to disappear," Pete said, "Leave town till this whole thing blows over."

"You know who the next targets are then?" Max asked. "The other three tied to the name O'Reilly. I can't leave my brothers here while I go hide someplace."

"Take them with you!"

"Pete, I run, I'll be running forever," Max told him. "The next queen will probably be after me like Monica was, to finish Monica's task."

"You don't know that," Pete said.

"And I'm not willing to take that risk," Max said firmly. "I _can_ handle this."

"May God be with you, Maxine," Pete sighed, "You're gonna need Him."

"He's kept me alive this long," Max shrugged.

"Yeah, but he can't fight Monica for you," Pete said. "The queens lost control over her. Monica's second choice girl up and disappeared. And the replacement the queens sent is dead, and they don't know how she did it."

"Great," Max sighed, "Not only am I on the list as a potential, I'm number one on that list."

"Watch your back, Maxie," Pete told her, as she paid for her sunglasses, "And watch it like a son-of-a-bitch."

"Thanks Pete," Max nodded, and donned the sunglasses. _So maybe it wasn't such a bad idea for Johnny to call the Winchesters…_

A hand rested on her arm, and Max whirled around, ready to defend herself. But it was Morris Goldstein, who took a half-step back at Max's hostile reaction. "Ah, Ms. O'Reilly, I am so glad you're back from Paris. You were on your way to see me, yes?"

"Well, actually…" Max began, but the man had already latched onto her arm and was leading her down the mall. He was the most unthreatening man she'd ever met, who was short and going bald, with hazel-eyes and thick glasses. Max had a good eight inches on the man, but at the pace he was dragging her at, she was having trouble keeping up.

The man was talking a mile a minute, something about a tourist in Tel Aviv, who found some great stone, and would make, "a stunning pear cut."

Max wasn't really listening to him, she just wanted to get home. She felt too exposed after her discussion with Pete, it had unnerved her greatly. She'd known Monica wanted her as the queen, but it really hadn't sunk in all the way that Monica wanted _her_ as the _queen_.

She was breathless by the time they'd reached the Diamond Exchange where Morris's office was located. _And I wasn't even talkin' to him,_ Max thought, as she walked into the elevator first. And the man was still babbling as they headed to the eighth floor. _God please don't let this take too long,_ Max moaned inside her mind. She really wanted to go home, but her conscience wouldn't let her.

The elevator dinged, and stopped moving. Max caught the comment about her jewelry.

"You're wearing one of those chains with the silver heart," Morris was shaking his head.

"Hey, they're in style!" Max protested, as she followed him into the shop.

"Yes, but that's all you wear," Morris shook his head, "And you could have something so much better."

"Hey," Max growled. "This was the necklace my father gave me for my eighth grade graduation."

"Ah yes…no wonder," Morris frowned. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

_I'm sure you are,_ Max thought.

"It was a plane crash, wasn't it?" Morris then asked. "Both of your parents were on the plane."

Max kept her face neutral, but she knew something was off. "Yeah, it was." _And how did he know? I know I never told him that._

"Very sad," Morris said sympathetically, "To lose both your parents in one go. And you were what…fourteen when it happened?"

"Morris, how does this involve my doing my job?" Max asked. She'd never told Morris, or any of her clients, how old she'd been, or that her parents had been killed in a plane crash. _But Monica would know…_a nasty little voice in her head said. _She's seen inside your mind…_

"I'm sorry," Morris shook his head. "That was probably the last thing you wanted to talk about."

"Well, after eleven years," Max said, "No. I don't like talking about it."

"Sorry, how rude of me," Morris frowned. He called out for his assistant or secretary, Max was never quite sure, Marta, who didn't answer. He looked at the desk, then smiled, "Ah, I see. The ink has finished. She's probably run off to the supply closet for more."

Morris ushered Max into one of the plush chairs, and said, "Sit, sit. I will call the cutter and tell him you will arrive Wednesday. Marta will return shortly, you will wait, yes?"

Max checked her watch, and sighed, "I don't have much time, I guess I can wait though." _But I want to go home, can't you take the hint?_

"Of course, of course, you are a busy woman! I know this. I'm glad you can spare an old man a few moments."

_I guess not._ "I can stay for only a few moments though, because I really do have another appointment." _With Dean and Sam, trying to keep my dignity, and ask for their help to watch my back…after saying how much I could handle this alone…_

Morris nodded, and scurried into the inner office.

Max sighed, and took off her sunglasses. Never in her life had she wanted to go crawl under a rock and stay there as much as she did now. But, she knew she didn't live in Max World, she lived in the real world. Crawling under a rock somewhere had never been an option before, and sure as hell wouldn't be one now.

She could hear Morris's conversation, the man never spoke quietly, or slowly for that matter, and realized he was speaking in Hebrew.

Max had always liked languages, even she couldn't explain it. When she was younger she'd beg her mother to get her _Muzzy_, the videotape sets that taught kids languages like Spanish, French, and Italian. When she got her courier job, she'd learned a lot more, and since she had gone on trips to Israel, she'd learned Hebrew. She hadn't meant to translate the conversation, but she did so anyway.

"*Hello. Yes, I'll hold. *"

Max gave a mental shrug, and looked around the office, waiting patiently.

"*Yes, yes, she's here. No, I didn't see any. She's wearing a jacket. *"

That got her attention. Then, doing the calculation in her head, Max realized it was almost eleven o'clock in Tel Aviv. _This can't be good,_ she thought nervously.

"*I can probably stall her for another fifteen minutes, but you must hurry. I would think that between the four of us we can control her. *"

Max was on her feet at this time, debating whether to be gone when he came back. _No,_ she reasoned, _Because I don't run away from my problems. Prey would run, and I'm _Not_ Prey._

When Morris came back, he was beaming as usual. "Good news, the shipment from Sierra Leone has arrived and the stones should be cut by Wednesday."

Max tried to smile, but she knew it looked like a smirk. "*You're very good,*" She answered in Hebrew. "*I would never have suspected. But you can tell your queen I am not part of the Herd to be collected.*" She watched as Morris began sweating, and answered coldly, and in English, "Monica, I will deal with you on my terms in my own time. Make no mistake that any of your children who try to control me will pay dearly for it."

As she turned on her heel to leave, half-expecting Morris to stop her, she started listening to Green Day's _American Idiot_ in her mind_._ It was loud, and the first one that popped up in there. She slammed down her mental shields to block out the Thrall, and made her get away.

Morris appeared to be frozen in place. _Probably like what happened to Dylan,_ Max sighed, shaking her head. _They can't fight off the parasite's commands…don't they realize that?_

The elevator dinged, and Max took no chances. She ducked down the stairwell and took the stairs two at a time. The elevator was out, the Thrall had probably already thought of that. An access door above her opened, and footsteps thundered closer to her.

"Gotta do the cliché," She muttered, and grasped the handrail, threw her leg over the side, and slid down the last six floors. When she'd reached the bottom, she grimaced, moving her arms around, _Note to self…when in trouble with Thrall, stay on ground floors only._ She ceased the thoughts right there, choosing then to think about an episode of _Punk'd. _She despised reality TV, but when she felt the Thrall's minds searching for her, it was suddenly a godsend. Granted, half the time she wanted to kick Ashton Kutcher's behind while watching that show, but it was worth it now. Those thoughts were worth it, not the beating of Ashton Kutcher.

She paused, listening for any sound from above. She couldn't use her mental senses, it would've been like blowing an air horn into the empty halls. Cringing, she grasped the handrail one last time and slid down to the parking level. Her arms still hurt, but she'd still fight if she had to. _But I really don't want to, _she moaned. Some risks were worth taking, this was not one of them.

She carefully opened the door, and stepped outside…or, at least into the parking garage. But it was cool and silent, and she didn't need to keep the shields down in here. The concrete blocked her telepathy, so there was no buzzing, or no headache. _I've been dealing with it for years,_ she thought, _I wonder how Sam is doing…_

Her boots were the only things making noise. She didn't care about being silent, Max just really wanted to get out and get home. She bent down to get under the barrier, and caught a weird look from the guard at his post. _Who cares, I'm free!_ _Now to get home and get my knives…_

"_Psst! Max!_"

"What now?" Max whined, and turned to face the speaker. Her stomach clenched even more so when she saw Dylan motioning her inside the souvenirs shop. _Dammit…_

Once inside, he took her by the arm, then led her to the back, then both kneeled down behind cheesy and over-priced T-shirts and other useless trinkets.

Dylan was no longer the sweating, weakened mass Clarissa had dragged out of Bernardo's. He was stronger, more confident, intense.

"Dylan, what is—?"

"Shh," Dylan hissed, "They'll realize I'm gone, I don't have much time. Here!"

He shoved two pictures at her, one showing a group of teens in front of a tricked out car. The other with two teen girls, trying to look cool and Goth. Dylan pointed to a girl with Jell-O green hair, "That's Dusty last year. The girl next to her is her friend, Voneen. Dusty once said it was cool how Voneen had her own place…it was somewhere over on East Colfax near Clarkson Street by the triple X theatre. If Dusty went anywhere, it was probably to Voneen's."

"Makes sense," Max nodded. She knew where the place was, but was never tempted to go in there. It wasn't her kind of place…especially not while she was trying to raise her brothers. _Never, come to think of it,_ she amended._ It was never my kind of place._

She felt something touch her hair, and she immediately went to strike. Dylan was faster, and caught her wrist. She realized how he'd changed so fast, and she almost had tears in her eyes…_almost._ "Dylan…you know you're one of the biggest idiots on earth, right?"

He gave a sad chuckle, "It's not what you think, Maxie. Vickie isn't like Monica. But I couldn't fight Monica's influence alone."

"Don't expect me to feel sorry for you," Max said. "You walked into it willingly, and we both know it."

Dylan stroked a finger down her face, and pushed away a lone strand of hair. "I forgot how beautiful your hair is."

Max rolled her eyes, and tugged on her arm, "Don't change the subject, Dylan."

"I wasn't changing the subject," Dylan gave a small smile. "I don't want Monica to have Dusty, and I sure as hell don't want her to have _you._ I want you alive, and happy and with me for the rest of my life. I've been checking around. Vickie treats her people right. One of her hosts is still healthy after twelve years."

Max's head was buzzing, but she couldn't feel the Thrall Host inside of him. But she didn't want to even hear him. "With _you?_ That's insane, what are you talking about?"

Dylan continued to stroke her face, "Exactly what I said. I was a fool, Maxie. I regretted my decision every waking moment for the past four years. I've never loved Clarissa like I've loved you. I hurt you, and I can't tell you how sorry I am. But I want to make it up to you." He suddenly looked lost, "I…I mean…oh _hell!_"

He was like liquid when he pressed his lips to hers. But Max didn't do anything. She was stiff in his arms, and had to force herself not to bite his tongue. _The last thing I want is blood in my mouth,_ she rolled her eyes. She broke away, "Dylan, stop."

She was able to get him to release her, and she scooted away. "You're married now. I've moved on. I don't trust you anymore, I _can't._ I'll find Dusty, but respect my wishes and go back to your wife, and stay there."

He met her eyes, and sighed, "No Maxie. I will go, but not back to Clarissa. I have to leave until this whole thing blows over. Until Monica is gone." The way he stood up made Max think of one of those puppets on strings. She was unnerved even more after seeing that small spectacle. "But I'll be back, and I won't let you get away a second time."

Max stared after him, confused, unnerved, and with the urge to gargle with Listerine for the next three hours. She got to her feet, and left the shop. She wondered whose side he was really on, and wondered why she still cared about him at all. She didn't want him back that much was clear. Max shivered, and walked down the mall, lowering her shields to find Morris and other Hosts. Of course, she couldn't find them, but could hear an argument going on.

_I will have my revenge!_

_No! She is too strong! She is Not Prey!_

_Comforting,_ Max had a small smile on her face as she shook her head. _Not all the Thrall is behind Monica._

Suddenly, some one grabbed her shoulder from behind, and pulled her into the alley. Before she could scream, a hand was clapped over her mouth.

* * *

**Love it? Hate it? Should I bring in the monkey ninjas and the cottage cheese?**


	6. Chapter 6

"It's me, it's me!" Dean hissed, as she struggled in his grasp.

Max stood still, and Dean let go. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Dean opened his mouth, then shut it. He tried again, but closed his mouth again.

"You were following me?" Max demanded. She received a nod as her answer, "Where the hell were you ten minutes ago when I had to outsmart two Thrall members?"

"Asking the sunglasses guy if he'd seen you," Dean finally answered.

"'Least you were on the right track," Max sighed.

"Got a cigarette?" The voice in the alley made them both jump.

"Don't smoke," Max answered.

The girl looked at Dean expectantly, and he shook his head. There were three, the speaker, another girl, and one guy. The speaker was tall, and still carried some of her baby fat, with purple spiked hair that gave her a few more inches, while the other girl was tiny, with hair bleached almost white. The boy was taller than all of them, including Dean, with dark hair and eyes.

"Bummer," the purple haired girl frowned. "Got a few bucks?"

"Hungry?" Max asked.

She shrugged, "A little."

"If you're willing to answer a few questions," Max asked, glancing at the three, "I'll buy you a few burgers."

The guy stood straight gracefully, more gracefully than he should have. Max figured he was a wolf, and probably a member of the local pack. His nostrils flared as he sniffed, and Max could tell he didn't trust them. But a silent agreement passed through the trio, and the speaker said, "Sure, why not? I'm Ruby," She nodded at the blonde, "That's Jade," then to the guy, "And that's Jake. He's a _wolf_."

The way her tone changed meant the two were supposed to be either terrified or impressed.

"You mean he's a werewolf?" Dean asked.

"Is that gonna be a problem?" Jake asked defensively.

"No," Dean said, "I just wanted to make sure. Max said the werewolves were civilized, not monsters."

Ruby frowned, but Jake gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"By the way," Max said, "I'm Max, that's Dean."

The three nodded, and headed for the corner burger restaurant. Jake's eyes were constantly moving, always alert. Max noticed Dean's gaze was on the two girls ahead. Ruby walked with a sexual strut, but Jade walked very carefully, as if she were in pain. She wasn't really limping, but close to it.

As they entered, Ruby headed for the counter, and Jade headed for the restrooms. "Order for me," she called.

"No problem," Ruby nodded, then walked over to Max. She held out her hand, palm up.

Max rolled her eyes, and pulled out a twenty, handing it to her. Ruby snatched it without a word, and got in the line. Max was about to follow her, but a hand on her arm held her in place. Jake tugged her to a corner, wanting a word with her.

"I've heard of you, O'Reilly," he said. "I cannot believe you'd work for that man."

"Matt Quinn?" Max asked. "'Cause I'm not. I'm working for Dusty's uncle and him alone. He wanted me to find her and keep her safe."

Jake shook his head. "You actually believe that?"

"Then fill me in with what I should know," Max snapped.

"Dusty found out things about her step-dad that she wasn't supposed to know," Jake said. "She knew what he'd do if he found her, so she bolted. Quinn offered her up to the vampires then hired you. You're just being used."

"And…you guys think I'm actually giving her back to Quinn?" Max asked. "Because I never said that. I would never do that. I said I would _find_ Dusty. Doesn't mean I'm giving her back to her step father."

"Yeah, but you find her, and you'll be leading the Thrall right to her," Jake cautioned. "And your ass is goin' into a wringer if you give her to either her dad or the blood suckers."

"I'm not giving her to either."

"Yeah right, and that's why your jacket and hair smells like two different Thrall hives." Jake shook his head, "Don't screw with me O'Reilly."

"Look…I understand why you don't want me to find her," Max said. "Because personally, if I were in your position, I wouldn't believe me either. But I just wanted to keep her safe. Her uncle wanted me to keep her safe. That's all I want. I'm not delivering her to anyone, I'm not making her go anywhere."

"I won't let you find her," Jake warned. "And I'll kill you or anyone else hurting her before they try and take her."

Max sighed. _He's not listening,_ she shook her head. Now she had to watch her back against the vampires, and the wolves in town. _Lucky me…_she thought back to Jade, and glanced in the direction of the restrooms. "A bit of advice," she said quietly, "Dusty's going to need protection from someone that won't be bought, and _can't_ be bit."

"We've taken care of that," Jake said.

"Jake, take a good look at Jade, and tell me that again," Max sighed, glancing in the girl's general direction.

Jake did, and his eyes widened when he saw a spot of blood soaking through the jeans of Jade's upper left thigh.

_She's not a Host…she's gotta be Herd,_ Max thought.

Jake let out a low menacing growl, then started swearing.

Jade turned to face them, and when her gaze met Max's she smirked. Then Max realized that there weren't just bathrooms back there, telephones ran along the back wall. The Herd couldn't communicate telepathically, but they sure as hell knew how to dial a number.

"Crap…" Jake realized it too, and turned to Max, "Get your boy and get outta here."

Jade's smirk turned to panic as she saw Max head for the exit.

Max grabbed onto Dean's wrist casually, but gripped it tightly. "No running, no tales to tell Monica," She murmured, and dragged him out the door.

"What was she—?"

"Shh!" Max hissed. She could sense Hosts, four of them to be exact. Two of them were from the stairwell, and had been joined by friends. _Okay…think mall crawler…that'll confuse them,_ Max thought, while trying to form a plan with another part of her brain. "There's four Hosts…"

"Aren't you the popular one," Dean commented.

"Thanks," Max said nervously. "Come on," She led him a few feet, turned a corner, and ducked into another alleyway.

"Plan?"

"Trying to find one," Max answered. She sensed something, and yelled, "Duck!"

The first blow from the attacker missed. She backed into him, jamming an elbow into his diaphragm, a second to his chest as he bent double from impact, then a third blow to his face in a simple one-two, breaking off fangs in a snap of bone.

"Wow…" Dean murmured as she bounced away, ready for more. "You…nice moves."

"Thanks, but we have to get outta here, _now,_" Max said.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Dean agreed, as they bolted down the alley. They shoved a delivery trucker out of the way, ducked into the nearby building, and slammed the heavy steel door closed, locking the bolt into place afterward.

"You might wanna think about getting the hell outta here," Dean called to the trucker, as Max looked for something to barricade the door with.

"The one time I need something, and it's a clothing store," Max sighed.

They took off through the front door, dodging the clothing racks, and screeching out onto the mall. Max stopped, avoiding the people on the street. Dean, however, collided with a camera-carrying tourist. Max couldn't help but laugh as the tourist untangled himself from Dean, and sent a stream of curses at him. Max helped Dean to his feet, and the hunter muttered, "I said I was sorry…"

"Worry about it later," Max shook her head.

They could hear the bodies colliding with the steel door, and carried on. They weren't running, just walking really fast. The southbound shuttle bus had just pulled up in front of the burger joint. Max led Dean around it, heading for the northbound bus, already set to take off.

Max leapt into the crowd on the bus, with Dean following behind her. They muttered apologies to other passengers, and were crammed together like sardines. The doors closed with a hiss, and the bus took off. Max's back was pressed against Dean, and he felt her relax slightly as the bus began to move. Some passengers took their seats, and the crowd loosened slightly. Max breathed deeply to calm herself, then jumped when Dean wrapped his jacket around her shoulders.

"You're bleeding," He told her quietly.

"But…I didn't get…" Max frowned, thinking for a minute, "Mind-control…" she gazed at Dean with a fearful look in her eyes, when suddenly the bus lurched, and she fell into the lap of a dark-haired business-man.

He gave her a smile, "I don't know how you can stand wearing leather in this heat…" He'd already taken off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. "Why don't you take off those jackets?"

"I dress for the situation, not the weather," Max said, trying to sound nice about it.

The man shut his mouth, giving her an odd look at the statement. But he no longer continued to flirt with her, which made Dean relax. _And why did I find that so irritating?_ He wondered, as he helped Max to her feet.

"This is why I hate the bus," She grumbled. She was just starting to feel something sting on her back, _Probably just a scratch._ She'd instantly realized it had to be the Thrall's mind-control, because she couldn't remember the vampire ever landing a blow.

The crowd tightened as the doors opened and more passengers got on. Max sensed another vampire outside, this one female. She made sure her hair was tucked into Dean's jacket, and turned up the collar. Dean put an arm around her, and moved her in front of him, so she was out of sight through the windows. His hand rested on her hair, blocking it from view as well.

"Aww," an elderly woman's voice said quietly. She looked to her friend; "Don't they make a cute couple?"

Dean blinked, and whispered, "She talkin' about us?"

Max nodded, "Yeah, but a couple of what?"

Dean smiled and shook his head. Max felt a twinge when he saw his smile, then mentally smacked herself. _No, no! Bad Max, bad, bad Max._ Then she felt a blinding flash of pain, and through the tears she glanced back at the vampires on the street. They were now on the ground and shaking, with froth coming out of their mouths. Max turned and buried her face against Dean's chest, finding darkness a better alternative as she felt Monica's rage.

The two stepped off the bus and Max said, "We've got another six blocks for the cross-town bus." Her voice sounded weaker, wearier. "I'm not walking all the way home. And I'm assuming you didn't drive here."

"No," Dean admitted. As they walked, he noticed Max rubbing at her head, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Max grimaced. "Monica's punishing the Thrall for their failure…I've just got a headache."

Max looked far away from fine, but Dean didn't say a word. Max could take care of herself, that much was certain. But even he hadn't seen the vampire hurt her; it looked like she'd took it out way before it had done anything. Yet her back looked like something with claws had slashed it open.

They reached the apartment without incident, and Max had stopped rubbing at her head. But that didn't stop her from griping all the way upstairs.

"This is getting ridiculous," She said, as she let herself and Dean into the apartment. "Can't even walk down the street…four…_four!_"

"She knows you're not goin' down easily," Dean pointed out, leaning against the bar.

"Monica's furious…and you know who's gonna get the full blast of it," Max sighed. She draped Dean's jacket over a barstool, then yanked hers off as well. She held it up, and Dean smirked at her through the gaps in the material. She sighed, then tossed it in the trash bin. Then hissed from the pain of the scratches.

"Yeah…uh…" Dean stood up, following a path on the floor, "We may wanna get those bandaged up…"

Max followed his gaze, and saw she'd been dripping blood all the way home. And it got worse the farther the trail led. "Lovely," she sighed. "Well…first thing's first," she frowned, "Where the hell did I put that neck guard?" she ran up the stairs, and started opening drawers, yanking objects out, then moving to the next one.

Dean frowned, and headed up the stairs, right when Max had reached her underwear drawer, and a bra hit him square in the face. He pulled it off, and watched Max hurry through her things. "Thirty-two B…nice size," He smirked.

Max finally stopped, and turned to him, "You're not helping!" She yanked her bra from his hand, and opened the chest at the foot of her bed. She pulled out a few odds and ends, finally grabbing her precious neck guard.

"Basically it's a fiberglass Kevlar vest?" Dean asked.

"Pretty much," Max shrugged. "Knives can't sink in, Thrall cronies can't bite through it, it's a beautiful thing." She started pulling off her shirt, "Help me put it on…" She ended with a hiss because of the scratches.

"You want help with those first?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, probably should…nothing's worse than fingernail scratches you can't reach," Max sighed, belly flopping onto her bed.

"Try getting blasted with rock salt," Dean said, heading for her medicine cabinet.

"I have been," Max snapped. "Nothing worse than getting shot in the ass!"

"You got shot in the ass?"

"Never give a ten-year-old a gun," Max rolled her eyes. "I told him to shoot at the target. My ass was apparently in his way."

"The shot ricocheted?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Max nodded. "I shoved him out of the way, then—" she cried out when he poured the peroxide on her back, "Dammit, what was that for?"

"I have to clean the scratches," Dean snapped. "You're lucky I don't have to pour holy water on them."

"If you did I would seriously kick your ass," Max grimaced, gripping the blanket tightly.

A few moments of silence passed, as the cuts were cleaned.

Dean grimaced, "What did that vamp do to you?"

"I don't know," Max grimaced. "I really don't know."

"How can you not know?" Dean asked, confused.

Max just shrugged her shoulders, and held still while Dean finished up. He sat up, and asked, "Did I hit a nerve or something?"

Max sighed, and got up, testing her mobility. "No…you didn't."

"Then why the sudden change here?"

Max pulled a tank top out of the pile on the floor, and put it on, and picked up the neck guard. "Why do I even bother with this?" She asked, tossing the thing aside, which landed with a hollow _clunk._

"Max?" Dean asked.

"You know, this is all Dylan's fault, when you get right down to it," Max said, sitting back down on the bed.

Dean sat beside her, "Um, I don't know the story, so if you could fill me in—"

"He was my fiancé," Max explained. "Cheated on me with Clarissa."

"Evil son of a bitch, wasn't he?" Dean said.

"Easy tiger," Max smiled, "This was four years ago."

"Monica attacked four years ago," Dean frowned. "He set you up?"

"He was lured with sex," Max shook her head. "Or possibly money. I was never quite sure, but Clarissa told me he was getting a lot of money…anyway, that was when I went after the queen, who was the dude, and killed him. I was designated Not Prey after that."

"So why is Monica going after you?"

"The other queens told me they lost control over her," Max scowled. "I never trusted them anyway. Monica's predecessor wanted me to be a queen…she's kinda been in the back of my mind, quite literally, ever since." Her scowl turned into a full grimace, and she kneaded her head with her knuckles.

"She can hurt you psychically?" Dean asked.

"It's not her this time," Max shook her head. "It's the Thrall. That buzzing…it's like pressure building in my skull…and nothing can get rid of it." She looked at Dean, "She chomped down on my leg when I went after her…marked me. But because I killed the queen, I was designated Not Prey. But that doesn't mean I don't hear the damn things all the time." She wiped at her eyes, "Hey…does Sam still hear the buzzing?"

"Not sure," Dean said. "If he does, he hasn't mentioned it."

Max grabbed a blue button-down shirt off the floor, and shoved her arms into it, grimacing as she felt the bandages pull. "She'll be dead in a few days. Then this'll be over."

"If we all live through it," Dean said.

"Ah, you will," Max assured him.

"And you?"

"That's up to the big man upstairs," Max said. "I'd like to believe I'll live through it, but who knows?"

"You're not gonna start preachin' the Bible or somethin' are you?" Dean grimaced.

"Relax heathen," Max smirked, "My parents were Christians. But I'm not caught up on the Bible…that's why I drag my brothers to Johnny's church once in a while. We get enough of it from him."

"Max," Luke called out, coming into the apartment. "Max? You home?"

"Yeah?" Max asked, buttoning her shirt. She and Dean headed down the stairs, and the hunter headed for the door.

"I'm gonna go find Sam," He said. "Maybe ask around about Dusty."

"I doubt you'll find anything," Max told him, heading for the sink. "Jake wouldn't tell me anything. He'd probably clock you in the face if you tried."

"So I'll come back with a few bruises," Dean shrugged, closing the door behind him.

"So, what's up?" Max asked, turning to face Luke.

"Why was he in your bedroom?" Luke asked.

Max raised her shirt, showing him the bandages on her back, "The Thrall doesn't like to play fair. Dean helped me."

Luke looked skeptical, but knew his sister didn't do anything else. "You like him," He then realized. "Don't you?"

Max turned on the water in the sink, turning the valve to the side so the water would get hot. "What makes you say that?"

"I dunno," Luke shrugged. "It's just a feeling."

Max thought about it for a minute, "Maybe I do."

"Then why don't you tell him?"

"NO!" Max said quickly. Her face turned red, and she calmed down, "Besides…he doesn't see me that way, and you know, he's leaving once this is over, so it wouldn't work anyway."

"You _really_ like him," Luke smiled.

Max put dish soap in the sink, and filled it up. "What difference does that make?"

"Maybe he really likes you too," Luke pointed out.

"Yeah, me and half a million other girls across the continent," Max smirked. "What would make me so different?"

Luke opened his mouth, then closed it with a frown. "Um…" he thought for a minute, "You can both hunt ghosts."

"Nice try," Max shook her head. "But that's not enough."


	7. Chapter 7

***

"So, what did you get on our resident werewolf?" Dean asked.

"Term is Lycanthrope," Sam said, "At least, that's what _they_ are. He wasn't sure about how alcohol would kill the eggs, but he said he'd ask around." He shook his head, "And he gave me a message for you."

"What?" Dean smirked, "Don't kill 'im? Don't call him Wolf Man?"

"No," Sam shook his head, "Stay away from Max."

"Wha?" Dean asked, confused.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Don't go after Max."

"What the heck did you say to him?" Dean asked defensively.

"Nothin'," Sam held his arms up in defense. "That was like a last minute thing, as I was leaving, he said to tell you to stay away from Max."

"Well, I'd like a talk with this guy myself," Dean said. "The werewolves are hiding Dusty. I want to know more about this."

"Fine," Sam said. "He'll probably say he can't explain it."

"Hey, Hardy boys," Max said, coming down the stairs, with Luke in tow. "I got a call to run an errand. Either of you wanna play bodyguard?"

"You're asking—"

"Quiet Luke," Max cut him off.

"I'll go this time," Sam offered.

Max nodded, "Fine." She headed down the stairs toward the parking garage.

"You talk to Justin, I'll keep an eye on Max," Sam said to Dean.

"You watch your back," Dean said.

"I always do," Sam nodded.

"No, I mean more than usual," Dean frowned. "Guys can use mind-control."

"Really?" Luke asked, "That must be how Max got those scratches on her back."

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, who said, "That's the general theory."

"I better get goin'," Sam said, heading down the stairs.

Max stood against her truck, now wearing a long, black, leather duster.

"What's with the leather?" Sam asked, getting into the passenger side.

Max climbed into the driver's seat, shrugging as she hit the ignition. "It's better than nothin'…I have this neck guard thing, but I decided not to bother with it."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Dunno," Max shook her head. She pulled out of the garage, and headed down the road, "I made it through today without getting bitten…took out a Thrall member, though not before he got the jump on me."

"Dean kind of explained that."

"Yeah," Max muttered. "Well, it's _not_ happening again."

Ten minutes later, they stopped in front of a store called Tres Chic, and Max got out, asking Sam to guard the car.

"Do you want me to bark at passers by too?" Sam asked with a roll of his eyes.

"Go right ahead, Cujo," Max said with a lopsided grin, then headed inside. Less than a minute later, she returned with an envelope, rolling her eyes. "I really don't want to do this. I normally _don't_ do this…" She grumbled, getting back into the truck.

She tossed the envelope onto the dashboard, and started the engine, pulling away from the curb. Sam grabbed the envelope, and looked through it. "An eviction order?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "One of the owners, Ramon, divorced his wife, after she cheated on him with their new prodigy. After he was awarded the house, Celeste went back and changed all the locks, and won't let anyone get near enough to boot her out the front door."

"So he called you?"

"I'm a bonded courier," Max shook her head. "I don't do this stuff, but he said he'd pay anything."

"Ten thousand dollars?" Sam asked, finding the check.

Max's cheeks turned red, "I thought it was high enough to where he'd change his mind. He agreed, and now I'm stuck in the middle, delivering the eviction notice."

"Damn…"

"Bright side, bills can be paid, and Charlie doesn't need as many scholarships," Max sighed, "I'm not proud of it…but I'm a woman of my word." She pulled the truck to a stop across the street from their destination. "Celeste may like me, but if she dents the _Falcon_, she's getting one hell of a bill."

"The _Falcon_?" Sam chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

"Stupid, I know," Max smiled along with him, and shook her head again. "But Luke called it that. I've had this thing since I was sixteen, and Luke would watch _Star Wars_ with me. He's been calling it our _Millennium Falcon_ since he could talk…it kinda stuck."

Sam followed Max to the neighbor's yard, and stood behind her as she called out, "Hi Celeste!"

The woman in the yard reached behind the hedge she'd been trimming, and pulled out a heavy, lead crystal elephant.

Both took a step back, "I never did mention she's taken to chucking fake elephants at people, did I?"

"No, you neglected that little detail," Sam frowned.

"Oh! Maxine, how wonderful to see you darling!" Celeste said, dropping the elephant to the ground. It hit the grass with a soft thud. She looked at Sam, "And who is your friend?"

"His name is Sam," Max said, taking a step forward.

Celeste's face changed, and she frowned. She cast a panicked glance at the house, and apparently decided she'd never make it.

"You know why we're here?" Max asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

"Max, please understand," Celeste began. "I found this house…I love it. I suffered a moment of weakness—"

"Celeste," Max sighed, hearing Sam hiss then shift on his feet. _Weird…_"You're talking to the wrong person. I'm a Christian, and I know adultery is one of the big, _thou-shall-nots_. Plus, that's why Dylan and I didn't work out. He was cheating on me."

"Um…Max…"

"Please, Max," Celeste began again. "It's not fair, he's punishing me forever for one moment of weakness."

"Was it worth it?" Max asked, and felt Sam tap her on the shoulder. She waved him off, still focused on Celeste. She put the papers on the hedge, "Was it worth driving away—"

"Is your friend all right?" Celeste asked suddenly worried.

Max whirled around to find Sam clutching at his head, breathing heavily. "Sam, what is it?"

Sam grimaced, and glanced at the balcony window, "Thrall…" He muttered.

That was when Max felt it, a surge of power from the Hive. She watched as Celeste's knees buckled, and the woman fell to the ground with glazed-over eyes.

"Thrall!" Sam said, louder this time.

Max looked to the second floor balcony. A young man stood there, and opened his mouth in a hiss, revealing fangs. "Sam…listen carefully. Imagine a shield. Not imagine, _focus_ on blocking them out. Like slamming down a shield." All the while she had a hold on his arm, helping him back away to the truck. There was a knife in her hand, she'd strapped sheaths to her wrists, hidden under her sleeves. She picked up the pace when the vampire leapt from the balcony, picked up Celeste, and hissed at them.

Max shoved Sam into the passenger seat, then ran around the truck and climbed in herself. She started the engine, and glanced at Sam, "Any better?"

"Kinda," Sam grimaced.

"Just try and close the mental shields," Max said, starting back for the apartment. "It's kinda hard at first, but it keeps them at bay."

The farther away they got, Sam seemed to get better. "I shouldn't have volunteered," He grimaced.

"You didn't know," Max said, pulling into the parking garage. She handed him a knife before killing the engine. "I didn't even know."

"How do you deal with the buzzing all the time?" Sam asked.

_Guess that answers that earlier question,_ Max frowned. "Like I said, the shields block them out. It takes practice I guess." She looked at him, "You haven't really mastered your abilities yet, have you?"

"I don't really know what my abilities are," Sam admitted. "I mean, I know I get visions. And apparently can hear the Thrall…once I moved an entire bookshelf with my mind, but I don't know if that was a one time thing, or it's something that will improve later."

"The only thing I can tell you is practice with the mental shields," Max shrugged. "I know it sounds repetitive, but that's all I can offer at this hour."

Sam nodded, and got out of the truck. There weren't any vampires that they could see, and they walked up the stairs towards Max's apartment. It was uneventful, unless one counted Max spinning around at random intervals to make sure they weren't being followed.

Dean and Luke were waiting in the apartment, Luke at the laptop, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Wow…you guys know everything about this stuff," He said in awe.

"Not everything," Dean said, looking over his shoulder, "But a lot." He looked over at Sam, and straightened, "What the heck happened to you?"

"Nothing," Sam said, shaking his head.

Max frowned, she could see Sam's eyes were bloodshot, and he was very pale. "He's never felt a power surge from the Thrall before." She explained, "Anyone got a specific preference for music?"

"What's the choices?" Dean asked.

"Anything that when cranked up will be very, very, loud," Max said. She caught her reflection in the glass doors in front of her stereo, and saw she too looked pale and bloodshot.

"Foreigner!" Luke called out, eyes never leaving the computer screen.

"What a surprise there," Max rolled her eyes, and slid in the CD, cranking the volume up. The song _Hot Blooded_ filled the air, and Luke bobbed his head to the song. "Focus on the song, it'll block out the Thrall."

"That's why the buzzing went away the first time," Sam realized. "Dean started playing Metallica."

"Luke answered with Foreigner…but Metallica does work," Max nodded. "AC/DC, Green Day…anything that can be pumped up really loudly…" She rubbed her temples, "It blocks them out…I don't want them to know what I think I know…"

"What you _think_ you know?" Dean asked.

"Or what I'm planning," Max said, "I just don't _know_ what I'm planning yet…"

"Well, what do you know?" Sam asked, "How 'bout we start there?"

"Clarissa, Matt Quinn, who is Dusty's step father, this nurse at the hospital, and a guy in a pick-up at the airport—"

"You really are the popular one, aren't you?" Dean asked.

"They're all working for Monica," Max said, as if she hadn't heard him. "Dylan is fighting them, and I'm not sure about the Thrall cronies at the mall. I'm not sure whom Morris is working for, nor do I know about Celeste…" She rubbed her temples once more, "I've gotta go out…this time _alone._"

"Works so well every other time," Sam commented.

"That reminds me," Max held out her hand, "Gimme my knife."

Sam grabbed the hilt and said, "No."

"_Please_ gimme my knife?" Max asked in a strained voice. She made a grab for it, but Sam held it above his head.

"No, you shouldn't go out alone," he said.

"I tried to be nice," Max shrugged. She tackled him to the ground, and yanked the knife out of his hand. Getting to her feet, she put the knife back in its sheath, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Sam scowled at her, despite the fact he was gasping for air. She'd knocked the wind out of him when she'd hit him, throwing her shoulder into it. Dean was gripping the bar to keep from falling off his stool, he was laughing so hard at the display. Luke applauded his sister as she left, and shook his head, "Yeah…she doesn't like it when people do that."

"Thanks…for the…warning," Sam coughed, sitting up.

***

A few hours later, Max pulled up to her apartment building. _Okay, let's recap: Voneen's dead, the Thrall killed her. Dusty's on the move, _again_, and Justin probably knows where she is._ Max sighed when she saw a sedan blocking the entrance to the garage.

She parked at the corner, in front of the fire hydrant. _As long as I can reach the Tow Company before the cops see it, I'm fine,_ she thought, getting out of the truck. She'd written the make and model on the back of an envelope, and walked around the car to get the license plate number.

That was when she felt the hive send a surge of power her way. She cried out in pain, grabbing at her head, when she heard Justin shout out, "Max, look out!"

Max dropped to the sidewalk, and rolled toward the building. A vampire sailed overhead, foot aimed in a kick that would've knocked Max square in the head. He landed on the car and rolled off the trunk.

Max got to her feet and scanned the area. Four Hosts, all looking young and athletic, came toward her. "I'm sure I've been in worse situations," She muttered, "I just can't think of any."

"We gonna kill them, or hurt 'em?" Dean asked behind her.

"I personally want to kill 'em," Justin said, letting loose a viscous growl.

"Guys," Max said, backing toward their voices. "As much as I appreciate you here, this really isn't your battle…after all, it's me they want."

"Then they'll have to come through the both of us to do it," Dean said, holding a shotgun.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Justin asked, sparing one glance at Dean before looking back to the Thrall members.

"Tooth fairy's got a hard core cousin," Dean rolled his eyes.

"Rules are no distance weapons," Max told him. "You have to kill them with knives, stakes—"

"Wasn't the intent," Dean said, and blasted the nearest Thrall member. The rock salt hit him in the chest, sending him flying backward.

Max rushed toward the one closest to her truck, and body-slammed him into the _Falcon_. His head left a dent in the tail section, but no permanent damage. She yanked the vampire's left arm behind his back, grabbed onto his belt buckle, then slammed him into the wall of her building.

And Justin took out another, using a straight-finger punch to the throat and a sharp kick to its knee.

Three down, one to go.

The vampire looked at his fallen comrades, then looked to the other three. He took off down the street, nearly running into a cop car that was making its usual rounds.

One of the officers got out and chased after the vampire, which he never did catch.

Max and Justin were left to answer questions, and bend the truth when need be. They couldn't explain the rock salt-covered vampire, because Dean and his trusty shotgun had miraculously vanished once the police arrived.

Justin went back inside, and Max took care of details, which involved the Tow Company removing the sedan so she could park the _Falcon_ inside. She headed upstairs to her apartment, to find Dean sitting in her living room, cleaning his arsenal of weapons.

"Thanks for helping with the police," Max snapped. "It would've been nice to know what to tell them when they saw rock salt on the Thrall member."

Dean shook his head, "It just would've caused trouble."

"And to think everything was just hunky dory around here," Max rolled her eyes. "Where did Sam go?"

"Luke wanted a burger," Dean said. "Sam took him."

"He didn't need to do that," Max said.

"He won't mind," Dean told her, inspecting his cleaning job on the rifle in his hand. "'Sides, I think Luke wanted to know more about the spoon-bender stuff," He paused, "Which makes me wonder why he never asked you."

"I'm not a spoon-bender," Max said. She sighed, "I gotta go talk to Justin."

"He already said an earful," Dean grumbled, grabbing another gun.

"I'm sure he did after your hasty retreat," Max turned toward the door. She headed down the stairs, and knocked on Justin's door.

"Yeah?" Justin asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"We need to talk," Max said, brushing past him.

Justin's brow furrowed, "Come in?" He asked, shutting the door.

Max rolled her eyes, "I was asking around about Dusty Walker. As it turns out, her friend Voneen is dead."

Justin just gazed at her, not showing any form of reaction.

"And, someone from the fireman's calendar sold at the 7-11 picked her up, and took her away in a cab," Max said. "I'm assuming you're the only fireman who can't drive, so I want to know where she is."

"Sorry," Justin said. "Can't tell you that."

"Come again?" Max asked.

"Max, you're no detective," Justin said. "I think your new friends would make better detectives. But even they don't know the players, and you can't seem to realize that you're being lied to."

"Gee, that thought never crossed my mind," Max said, putting a hand to her cheek. "No, wait. It did. Of course I'm being lied to. I just want to figure out who is doing the lying." She folded her arms, "I don't want to play games here, Justin. I just want to find Dusty and protect her."

"Protect her, that's a good one," Justin rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming Dylan wants you to find her. He's lying to you, and if you tell them where she is, Dusty's as good as dead." He shook his head, "Do yourself a favor, Max. Back away from this. It'll be safer for both of you."

"I can't do that," Max said. "I am not working for her step dad, nor will I give her away to Dylan. Scary fact is, you were seen giving Dusty a ride. If I know that, and others know that, so does Monica."

"I knew I should've let Rob go get her," Justin rolled his eyes. "Max, you have to step away from this. You're making waves, and the wrong people are noticing. We'll protect Dusty, and keep her safe until Monica dies, or gets her second choice."

Max looked at him, confused, "And I thought everyone knew…"

"Knew what?"

"Dusty _is_ Monica's second choice," Max said. "Why do you think the Thrall keeps comin' after me?"

Justin shook his head, "Max, you _have_ to step away from this. For your own safety, and for Dusty's."

Max was tired of this. "I'll back off when _I_ know Dusty is safe." She turned on her heel, and walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

***

"So…sounds like you should step away," Jonathan said.

Max sat on the back of the pew, as always, and sighed into her hands. She looked at him, "You're really not helping."

"Justin is one of the wolves," Jonathan pointed out. "They're protecting Dusty. Why can't you go to Dylan and tell him she's safe?"

"He asked _me_ to keep her safe," Max told him. "I have to find her first. Then I'll know she's safe, and secure."

Jonathan shook his head, "I've known you too long to argue with you on this. You're the only one that would make the metaphorical mule seem wishy-washy."

"Thanks…I think," Max frowned. Then she smirked, "Oh, and thanks for sending the Winchesters. Sam's a psychic too, and is affected by the Thrall worse than I am…and Dean…" she just ended with a growl of frustration.

Jonathan chuckled and shook his head.

"You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking," Max said. "Because both Allison and Luke beat you to it."

"Allison told me," Jonathan shook his head.

"I'm gonna kill that woman," Max said, blinking. "I'm gonna evict her, then I'm gonna kill her."

"I think she's gonna be the death of you," Jonathan said, "Not the other way around."

"No," Max then told him. "You guys are wrong. What you're all thinking will never happen."

"And what if he—"

"Thank you Luke O'Reilly," Max snapped, "But I'm not gonna go there."

"Why are you so defensive?" Jonathan asked.

"Defensive?" Max asked in disbelief. "I'm being logical. Let's look at my track record, shall we? There was us, but you decided to be a priest. Nothing against you, it just happened."

"No offense taken then," Jonathan said.

"Then Dylan," Max shook her head. "Got engaged to him, he started cheating on me with Clarissa, and became Herd…oh, did I mention he's a Host now?"

"Three times," Jonathan nodded.

"And he came back," Max cringed. "Which, you know, Dean was trailing behind me, and probably thinks I still want Dylan…who kissed me, and said he loves _me_ and wants to come back and start over…but I can't trust him, because of what he did, and he's a Host, and he's married, and did I mention I don't trust him…?"

"Okay, Max," Jonathan cut her off. "You just shredded the entire rulebook of grammar in one sentence I believe."

Max buried her face in her arms, hunched over with her hands resting on her head, "I just want this to end."

Jonathan reminded her, "Then the Winchesters will leave."

The groan came, followed shortly by the finger.

"Hey, I might be a priest, but I'm still human," Jonathan shook his head.

***

Justin opened his door, "Ah great. It's the Lone Ranger."

"That's a new one," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at Dean.

"He's a little ticked because I didn't stay and talk to the cops," Dean told him, walking into the apartment. "By the way, how _did_ you explain the salt-covered vampire?"

"We really didn't," Justin frowned. "Just suggested maybe he'd had drugs on him or something."

"Okay, another question," Dean said, "What's the deal with the wolves and the Thrall?"

"_Lycanthropes_ and the Thrall are mortal enemies," Justin said. "And before you ask, I'm not telling you where Dusty Walker is. I wouldn't tell Max, and I'm sure as hell not telling you."

"Fair enough," Sam nodded.

"Hey, Justin," Luke asked, closing the door. "Tell them about werewolves."

"Huh?" Justin asked.

"Tell them about the wolves," Luke said. "It's always a fascinating topic, and I know you told Sam, but you gotta tell Dean."

"Oh yeah…meant to ask you about that," Dean nodded.

"Lycanthropy is a hereditary thing," Justin said. "We can't make more werewolves, unless we reproduce. Female Lycanthropes are sterile, which is why the pack chooses a human surrogate to have puppies for the pack."

"Is that why you're protecting Dusty?" Sam asked.

"Look," Justin snapped. "Dusty is in good hands. It is our job to protect her. It's _your_ job to protect Max…but judging on recent events, maybe she should be protected by the wolves as well."

"Why?" Dean asked.

***

"Maturity, thy name is Max," Jonathan said, sitting next to her, eating salty, fast food french-fries.

"Hey, adults can enjoy fast food as much as the next person," Max defended herself.

"Yeah, but you bought one of the kid's meal toys," Jonathan said.

Max bounced the ball up and down, "Eh…I can squeeze it, to relieve stress, and I can throw it at a wall and pretend it's someone I really don't like."

"Damn, Max, you've thought this out," Jonathan said.

"Jonathan!" A nun said, folding her arms in front of him.

"What?" Jonathan asked. "Sorry, Sister Renee…but she kinda needed someone to talk to."

"She's not even religious," Sister Renee said in distaste.

"Hey, I'm a Christian!" Max protested.

The nun still frowned at her.

Max gave a sheepish smile, "French fry?"

The nun walked away.

"Oh, I forgot…I actually spoke with Dylan."

"What a joy," Max rolled her eyes, grabbing her chocolate milk shake.

"He told me the eggs can't stand alcohol," Jonathan told her.

Max patted his arm, "Thanks…next time I have a question, I'm just callin' you."

"So…get yourself good and drunk, and you'll be fine."

"I can't fight when I'm wasted, Johnny," Max said, taking another swig of her shake.

"If you get drunk, you won't have to," Jonathan said.

"You're the priest," Max smiled, "Aren't you supposed to be saying that alcohol is bad?"

"When it might save your life, then alcohol is your friend," Jonathan said.

"I'll keep it in mind," Max shook her head, and took her fries with her. "You owe me two-fifty!"

"Two dollars and fifty cents for a large order of fries?" Jonathan snapped, "What's the world coming to?"

"The fries were a dollar, with the buck fifty tacked on because of the Dean thing," Max smirked.

***

"So…werewolves can ward off the Thrall?" Sam asked.

"Yes, it's like a repellant," Justin nodded. "They're our natural enemies…yadda-yadda," He shook his head.

"And this thing's goin' after Max," Dean frowned. "How can _we_ protect her?"

Justin sighed, "In case you didn't notice, Max really doesn't _want_ protection."

"Honestly, I think she does," Dean said. "She doesn't want to admit it, but she does."

"And what makes you so sure?" Justin demanded. "You've known her for what? Two days?"

"She's always the protector," Dean shrugged. "And doesn't want to give up control…"

"He has a particular expertise in that area," Sam explained, which gained him a glare from Dean, which he ignored.

"I can probably find something…other than the Lycanthrope protection," Justin frowned. "I'm not sure what else there is."

***

Max walked into the apartment, and gave a sigh of relief when she found she was alone. "Boys, as much as I like you, you can stay out as long as you like," She smiled, plopping down onto her sofa, and pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. _1 Voicemail Message._

_"Max, it's Justin. Our Acca asked me to tell you she wants to meet with you. The Shamrock Hotel, room 150, day after tomorrow at three p.m."_

"Lovely," Max sighed, "Maybe now I'll get some answers, instead of more questions." She sighed again, and placed her phone on the coffee table, wishing Dean would move his arsenal back to the trunk of his Impala. "Men," She groaned, then grabbed one of the pillows, burying her face in it.

She was just about to nod off, when a voice began whispering to her.

_Come to us Maxine…_

"Shut up Monica," Max growled, too tired to do much else.

_Come now, Maxine. They will die without you,_ Monica's voice said sweetly.

Since Monica was the queen, she didn't really have to speak out loud. She could just send her messages telepathically.

Max sat up and shook her head, trying to sever the connection. It wouldn't break, and her head began to pound with the Thrall's insistent cries.

_Come to us Max…be our queen…don't let us die…_

She walked over to the stereo, and put in a CD, trying to block out the distant cries. But even as she increased the music, the voices became louder and louder.

_Come to us Queen Maxine…_

Twice Max found herself with the doorknob in her hand. She turned the volume up as loud as it would go, and curled up in the corner, screaming out the lyrics to block out the incessant noise.

Downstairs, the boys grimaced, as they could hear the sounds of Green Day's_ American Idiot_ CD booming through the walls.

"Agh, she's at it again!" Justin grimaced, rummaging through his kitchen drawer, then popping in a pair of earplugs.

"I'll go see what's up," Dean said, getting to his feet. He cringed, "And maybe get her to turn it down a little."

"You do that," Justin nodded, "She's been giving me a headache with that music lately."

Dean closed the door behind him, and headed up the stairs. The higher he climbed, he could hear Max literally screaming out the words to the song. He opened the door, the music was way to loud, even for him.

Max was clutching at her head, still screaming. "Get out…be quiet…_leave me alone!_"

"Max!" Dean shouted, trying to be heard over the music. He walked over to the stereo, and slammed his hand over the power button. The music cut off instantly.

Max dropped to her knees, actually sobbing by now.

"Max?" Dean asked, his voice quiet. He knelt down beside her, not sure what else to do.

"I can hear them…" Max whimpered. "I can hear every single one of them…they keep crying out…I need to go to them…they need their queen!" Max finally shot to her feet.

"Max, no!" Dean said, rising to his feet.

"They need me!" Max protested, grabbing her car keys from the kitchen counter. "I need to go to them, I can't let them die!"

Dean grabbed hold of her arm, "I can't let you go to them."

"They're gonna die!" Max insisted.

Dean frowned, seeing the wild, glazed look in her eyes. "Max, they're gonna kill you! You don't want to be part of the Thrall…that's why we're here!"

"They're helpless without their queen," Max said, "I need to go to them!"

"I'm sorry," Dean muttered, dropping her arm.

"You don't make the rules," Max told him.

"I'm not sorry for that, I'm sorry for this!" Dean raised his arm and backhanded her across the face. She went headfirst into the steel door, and Dean caught her in his arms as she ricocheted. "I had to do it you know…" He muttered, wishing he hadn't.

Dean carried Max up the stairs to her room, and gently put her on the bed. He removed her boots and socks, tossing them into the piles of clothes still littering the floor, then threw a blanket over her. His cell phone rang, and he went downstairs to answer it. He'd received a text message…coordinates.

Dean sighed, and dialed his father's cell phone. The familiar message read through, and Dean left _him_ message, "Hey dad…ah, something came up, and Sammy and me won't be able to work this gig…sorry." He closed his phone, and put it back in his pocket.

He walked over to the door, and picked up Max's keys from the floor. He also put them in his pocket, incase Max woke up and was still being controlled by the Thrall. "That was close," He realized. "_Too _close."


	9. Chapter 9

***

Max tossed and turned. She kept hearing the Thrall, but most of all, she kept hearing Dylan. It was the same thing he'd told her in the souvenir shop, basically. He loved that she was strong and powerful, he said they'd be together, soon, forever.

Max moaned, wishing the voices would stop.

_We're sending someone and Monica will be gone, and you'll be mine again…soon now. We're sending someone—_

Max opened her eyes, and found that _she_ was the one going after Monica in her own lair. The queen was asleep, surrounded by many Thrall Hosts. Max didn't move like she did in real life, but the attack on Monica was quick and violent. But Monica was ready, although her face was so worn it was almost skeletal. Her hiss was inhuman and unearthly. A blast of psychic energy hit Max in the chest, and sent her flying into a wrought-iron staircase. Metal screeched and groaned, then fell down around her.

_So, they've sent you to replace me, have they?_ Monica asked. Max struggled, but the collapsed metal kept her in place. _You fool! Didn't they learn when I killed the last one? My children will live and they will be more powerful than you can ever imagine! I will not live to see it, but neither will _you_!_

There was a blinding flash of white light and dark magic then a pain that felt like a stiletto to the heart: sudden and deadly.

"Max?"

Max shot up in bed, gasping for air. "Dean?" She asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

Max latched onto him, breaking down and sobbing once more.

Dean rubbed her back, whispering, "Shh, shh, it's okay, it'll be all right…"

Max buried her face in his neck, shaking her head, "The queens lost control of her…she's stronger than all of them put together."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "That Monica chick…what a bitch."

"You don't know the half of it," Max told him. "They sent their strongest to replace her…and Monica killed her…she's an old crone, but she's lethal with telepathy."

"And you know this how?" Dean asked.

Max chuckled, "I'm a spoon-bender, remember?"

"You and Sammy man," Dean shook his head. "Those visions…"

"Once again," Max shook her head, "You don't know the half of it."

"_I'm sorry." _

"_You don't make the rules."_

"_I'm not sorry for that, I'm sorry for this!"_

Max recalled the words, "You hit me."

She felt Dean stiffen, then he let go of her. He was standing by the bed when she finally said, "I mean, you actually hit me."

"I had to do it," Dean began. "I mean, I didn't want to do it, but I had to do it—"

"I'm surprised you did," Max shook her head, "Most people would've been too afraid of what would've happened."

"Well, it was either that, or you went off to find the Thrall," Dean said, sitting back down on the bed. He kept an arm's distance away from Max, though.

Max sighed, "Um…do you think you could go downstairs?"

"Why?" Dean asked, instantly on his feet. "You need something?"

"Yeah, I need a shower," Max said, getting out of bed. "And sorry, I don't do that with someone else before the…fifth date," She calculated.

"Oh…right…" Dean nodded, and headed down the stairs.

Max watched him disappear to the first floor, and smiled slightly, "Thanks…in more ways than one." She stretched and yawned, "And I really need to wake up…" she shook her head again.

Dean had taken to rummaging through Max's kitchen while she'd been out for the count. He'd found coffee, and had made a pot by the time Max had come downstairs, hair dripping slightly and creating dark patches on her shirt. She was dressed mainly like the day before, her shirt was a darker shade of blue, with the white tank top underneath, and black pants. "Coffee?" She asked.

Dean nodded, and asked, "You okay?"

"I'll be a little better once I can put up the mental shields," Max said, filling a mug. She sat on the counter, and sipped her coffee, "She caught me while I was dozing."

A knock was heard at the door.

Dean started, but Max laid a hand on his arm. "Wait," She whispered, and sensed the being behind the door. She felt a wall of sizzling energy, but it definitely wasn't a Thrall member. "Who is it?" She asked.

"Someone from the past that can help you with the future," A woman's voice called back.

The side of Max's mouth curved up in a smile, and she hopped down off the countertop. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door, "Mary!"

Another woman walked into the room. She was short and stocky with warm brown eyes and naturally black hair.

"Hey, long time no see," Max smiled.

Mary's smile had an edge to it, "Glad to know I'm still memorable after seven years."

"Any person that sends a guy to the hospital for a month because he almost raped a girl definitely is memorable," Max said.

"What kinda high school did you two go to?" Dean asked from the kitchen.

"He was from a rival high school," Max explained. "He almost raped one of the girls on our softball team." She smiled, "So Mary beat the crap out of him."

"Any friend of Max's is a friend of mine," Dean said.

"Quite the charmer you've got here," Mary glanced at Dean.

"So he thinks," Max shook her head.

"My name's Dean by the way," Dean chimed in.

"Is he one of _them_?" Mary asked quietly.

"He's a Winchester," Max nodded. "Don't worry, he's behaving."

Dean rolled his eyes. _I'm not some little kid,_ he thought, folding his arms. "Yeah, and if I'm really good, she says she's gonna give me a cookie," He said sarcastically.

Max fought the smile, "He's not going after any werewolves anyway," She sighed, "And something tells me that you didn't just stop by to discuss old times."

"Right," Mary nodded.

"Want coffee?" Max asked.

"No thanks," Mary said.

Max nodded, then walked back into the kitchen, and resumed her seat on the countertop. She grabbed her mug and downed another few swallows of coffee. "I'm guessing you're a wolf?"

"Yes, I am a Lycanthrope," Mary nodded. "But I'm not _just_ a wolf, I'm the Acca of Denver."

"Acca?" Dean asked.

"She's the head wolf. They're a matriarchal group," Max explained.

"I see," Dean nodded.

"Now, let's get this out of the way," Max said. "I'm looking for Dusty. You guys know where she is. Why am I not allowed to know?" She frowned, "And why are the wolves fighting with the Thrall at all?"

Mary steepled her fingers in front of her chin, "Okay…Max, Monica wants you as the next queen."

"We've already got that one covered," Dean said.

Mary gave him a disapproving look, "I'm just setting the stage here, so don't interrupt with what you know and don't, because we don't have time for that."

Dean's cheeks actually turned pink and he remained silent.

Mary looked to Max and continued, "But, she knows you'd rather die, which I don't blame you for, really. So she had to move onto her second choice, Dusty. But that's not why we're protecting her."

"Then why?" Max asked.

"We started to watch out for her because of Matt Quinn." Mary explained, "She found evidence that he was skimming money from the city coffers, _and_ doing bad things with Monica."

"What?" Dean asked.

"We don't know," Mary said. "It's a big plot she won't even tell _me_ about…of course, he wants the evidence back, and to silence Dusty for good. Dead is good, but the Thrall Queen is better, because she'd have to honor agreements made by Monica."

"Why does it not surprise me that Matt Quinn is a scum-sucking pig?" Max rolled her eyes.

"And that's putting it lightly," Mary said.

"How did Voneen tie into this?" Max asked, "I know she's Dusty's friend and all, but it was the Thrall that killed her."

"Dusty told Voneen about the papers she took," Mary continued. "Voneen helped her run away. She also knows one of our wolves, Rob. They knew each other casually from school, text messaging and such. Monica offered Voneen the queen ship."

Max cringed, "That's why it killed her…she's not psychic…but Dusty is?"

"Yes," Mary nodded. "Monica chose Voneen because she figured she could trace her to Dusty. I don't know what deal Matt struck with Monica, but it doesn't really matter. By agreeing to protect Dusty, I endangered my pack."

"How?" Dean asked.

"Matt Quinn is a city councilman. And he's sworn vengeance against the wolves. With that high seat of power, the scum-sucker can make our lives a living hell."

Max got up and got herself another cup of coffee. When she resumed her seat on the countertop, she took a sip and said, "As long as I can ensure that Dusty's safe with you, the pack can keep her. I had no intention of handing her back over to Quinn…I'm not even working for him."

"No, you're working for the slime ball, Dylan Shea." Mary shook her head, "Not a better choice, O'Reilly. He's under Monica's thumb, if he knows where she is, she'll know."

"Dylan claims he's workin' for the home team again," Dean said. "Granted, I don't know the slime ball like you do, but I figure that's probably not believable."

"You can't take anything Dylan says as fact," Max said flatly. "He's not trustworthy…I learned the hard way."

"Look," Mary said. "My point is, I won't lose Dusty."

"And you won't," Max assured her. "I wouldn't give Dusty to Monica."

Mary shifted on her feet, "Max, Monica knows your brothers are very important to you."

"Monica wouldn't dare go after them," Max snapped.

"She would, and you know it," Mary said. "Like I said, I won't lose Dusty, and I can't afford you sacrificing yourself."

"How is it your business anyway?" Max asked defensively, "I promise I won't let Dusty get hurt."

Mary smiled sadly, "Max, I can't let you be the next Thrall Queen. You're too damn tough and way too smart. The Thrall and the wolves have always been balanced, until Monica came in and blew all that to Hell. And if you were queen, you'd take advantage of it. Max O'Reilly and Queen Maxine of the Thrall wouldn't be the same, and you know it. Those Hive cronies will take advantage of every skill you possess, eliminating your honor, morals, faith, everything. You'd be like the Terminator, and the Hosts would be extensions of your wrath. We would _die_, by your hand. And you would enjoy each death, you would revel in the blood of your enemies."

It was the same thing Max had told Dean that first night. Mary's description was a little more…in depth maybe, but she'd said the same thing. He looked at Max, who stared at her reflection in her coffee mug, then caught the mug when it dropped from her fingers. The mug was empty enough so no coffee hit the floor, and Dean put the mug on the counter behind them. Without the mug in her hands, Max's gaze turned back to Mary.

"Justin can watch over the place, Allison, and apparently the Winchesters as well." Dean was about to say something, but she rattled on, "Your brothers are in social circles with my people in them, my nephew Nathan is one of Luke's best friends."

"That explains why he looked familiar," Max said quietly.

"Well, we just want to make sure nobody you love is in danger," Mary shrugged. "I believe you can either kill Monica, or wait her out, so long as everyone you know is safe."

Max gave a ghost of a smile, and spoke in a low voice, "That's a lot of effort on your part to make sure my life stays sane…should I be flattered?"

"Eh, be or don't be, I'm just here to protect my pack," She shrugged again, and headed for the door. "Oh, that reminds me, stay away from Justin, please."

Dean, who'd been drinking coffee, snorted, almost sending it flying across the room, then made his way over to the sink, griping and coughing all the way.

Max couldn't help but laugh at his misery, then turned back to Mary. "I thought you didn't choose who your wolves dated."

"Normally I don't," Mary nodded. "But, you're not a surrogate, and don't ever intend to be one, which is why I don't want you and Justin together. It's nothing against you, I just—"

"Relax Mary. I like Justin, but we're just friends. That's all I want to be to him."

"Really," Mary said. She glanced at Dean, who was blowing his nose in a paper towel to get the coffee out of his nasal passages, and quirked a smile herself. "I see…well, take good care of yourself, O'Reilly. We'll still be meeting tomorrow."

"Right," Max nodded, shaking her head at Dean, who glared at her. "Apparently there's some joke going around that I'm not aware of."

"Looks like a bundle of laughs there," Mary shook her head. "Don't take any unnecessary risks, Max. If we hafta fight the Thrall, we will, but I don't want any of my wolves used as common fodder either."

Justin came in as Mary was heading out. "Hey…did Sam come up here?"

"No," Dean shook his head, "I figured he stayed downstairs in your place."

"He said he was going out, and never came back," Justin frowned, "He said he was going to escape the music."

Max smacked him on the back of the head, "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I didn't know!" Justin protested. "I didn't think the Thrall could get him!"

"Well, apparently that didn't happen, did it?" Max snapped, hopping off the counter. She turned to Dean, who was gone.

"Great, the Lone Ranger gets away again," Justin rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, Justin," Max scowled, and headed down the stairs through the open door. "Dean! Wait!"

"Sammy's gone," Dean snapped. "I'm going after him!"

"Then what?" Max asked, "Get killed by Monica? You don't even know where her lair is, or where they really took him."

"So what do you suggest?"

"I call shot gun," Max said, walking past him.

Dean shook his head, "Lead on, Psychic Wonder."


	10. Chapter 10

***

"Oh…yuck!"

"What?"

"I stepped in an old hamburger…"

"You're the one that left without shoes."

"Well, we had to move fast!"

Max and Dean stood in an alley, after searching for nearly an hour. Max said she'd _sensed_ Sam nearby, and after parking the Impala in a nearby parking lot, they watched to see if they could catch sight of him.

Max shook the burger away, cringing, then wiped her foot off on the wall. "Disgusting…"

"Hey, there he is," Dean said, watching Sam walk along. "Huh…I was expecting, you know, something."

Sam just seemed out for a stroll. Max could see the glazed over look in his eyes, and frowned, "He really needs to learn to shut out the Thrall." They waited for him to pass by, then Dean grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him into the alley. Then he smacked him, and Sam shook his head, blinking.

"What happened?" he asked, dazed.

"This really is anti-climactic," Dean frowned.

"I can't even believe you know that word," Sam told him.

Dean went back to smack him again, this time out of annoyance, but Max grabbed his arm, "Listen, _children_. We need to get back to the apartment."

"All right, but you ain't steppin' on the upholstery," Dean said.

"Shut up," Max and Sam both said.

***

"Ouch," Max hissed, jerking her foot up.

"What'd you step on this time?" Dean rolled his eyes.

Max pulled the thing from her foot, and examined it closely. "It's freakin' rock salt you idiot!" She snapped, flicking it at him.

Sam raised his eyebrows, and Dean muttered, "Don't ask."

Max paused, and the brothers stopped, after realizing they were farther along than she was.

"Max?"

Her eyes were closed, and her head was pointed to the ground.

"Max!"

Max jerked, and looked at them. "What?" She asked, blinking.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Max nodded, managing a weak smile. "Um…you guys go on ahead…"

Both brothers looked at her suspiciously.

"And do what?" Sam asked.

"Um…I'll make sure there's no Thrall members in the vicinity," Max said. "Go on."

Dean turned and rolled his eyes as he walked into the garage. "She's full of it."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "What's wrong with her?"

"Thrall attack," Dean said, and sounded pretty sure of it.

"And you know this how?" Sam asked, as they headed up the stairs.

"Because you both looked like that yesterday when you got attacked," Dean told him. "Except, she's better at hiding it than you are."

Justin's door opened, and he poked his head out. "Thank god…I thought they'd have got him…"

"Well, as long as you don't qualify him walking around all night like a mindless zombie around town," Dean said flatly.

"I meant…I mean…I thought Monica would've taken him to her lair or something…" Justin stammered.

"I think she wanted to," Sam said. "She kept telling me to come…"

Both looked at him strangely.

"What?" Sam asked, "I'm not helpless, Max kept telling me about the mental shields, it didn't really work, but it kept me from becoming Monica's bargaining chip."

"Dude, you fought the Thrall?" Luke asked, impressed.

"Nothing impressive, I just walked around the city for six hours, in a daze," Sam frowned.

"That's normally something you wouldn't want to admit," Dean muttered.

"But they didn't control you," Luke pointed out. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been found."

"Kid does have a point," Justin said.

***

The buzzing never stopped, and it got worse and worse. Max slowly walked up the stairs, trying to ignore them.

_Either Monica convinced the other queens to help her,_ she thought, _or I was right, and they were never on my side at all…_

She was leaning even closer to the latter.

The hallway was empty, and so was her apartment. She figured the Winchesters were down in Justin's apartment…for some reason or another. She really didn't care at the moment, she just wanted to blare some music in her ears, and block out all the buzzing. Max grabbed her CD Walkman from her desk drawer upstairs, then walked back downstairs, for the extra batteries in the kitchen. She figured Justin wouldn't want to be hearing Green Day anymore, it wasn't his taste in music anyway.

Max was just replacing the batteries when she heard Monica's voice in her mind.

_It's time, Maxine,_ the queen said. _I have been patient up to this point, but that is all over now. My patience has run out._

_Really? Good, because so has mine,_ Max thought back to her. _Sam is not a part of this. You stay out of his head…_

_There is so much psychic energy there, just going to waste,_ Monica hissed. _He would be so useful to the Thrall._

_Monica, you leave Sam alone, and deal with me,_ Max shot back. _Because frankly, lady, you're goin' down in a huge ball of flames._

Monica laughed, _Oh, dear sweet Maxine. You have no idea how patient I've been. I may die, my Hosts and Herd may all die, but _you're_ the one who is 'goin' down'_.

Her laugh took on the _'Bwahahah'_ of movie villains. Max rolled her eyes at the thought. _Monica, can you be anymore unoriginal? _

***

"So, you haven't found anything?" Dean asked.

"No," Justin said easily. "Nothing important anyway."

"And you don't know anything?" Sam asked.

Justin shook his head, but they both knew he was hiding something.

Luke sighed, and rolled his eyes, "He likes Max…_really_ likes her, and Max doesn't return the feelings." Justin glared, but Luke continued, "Max likes…" He frowned, not betraying his sister's secret, "Someone…just not him." He glared at Justin, "And she won't be happy that Justin won't tell you about the spell, even if it's a risky one."

"What spell?" Dean asked.

"I thought the share everything stage ended before one turned ten years old," Justin growled. He turned to the brothers; "It's a spell, to transfer the werewolf…_essence_ if you will, into a human, temporarily."

"And this could help Max?" Sam asked.

"Greatly," Justin said, and smirked, "she's just got to let you touch her. And there in lies the risk."

"Not counting the fact that the spell's never been field-tested," Luke admitted. "Plus…Max doesn't like being touched…without her consent anyway."

"So…we're screwed," Sam sighed.

"Dean can probably do it!" Luke said instantly. His cheeks went red, "I mean…he's older, and your guys' job description deals with the supernatural stuff…"

Dean frowned, "I'll think about it."

Sam snorted, then covered it with a cough. Luke shrank down, still red in the face, and Dean rolled his eyes, "Come on, must we go to the gutter so quick?"

"Doesn't need to be like that," Justin said quickly. "I mean, all he has to do is hold her hand or something…"

***

_Oh, you'll see how original I can be, Maxine,_ Monica said.

Max's smirk was wiped off her face when her mind was filled with fire, turning it to silly putty. The batteries dropped from her hand, and Max found herself on the floor, not even remembering falling.

Then it felt like red-hot sandpaper was scraping across her brain, leaving trails of dead cells in its wake. Max couldn't think, couldn't see, all she could do was fight down the screaming, which she failed at, miserably.

_You see, Max? I've been practicing, and have discovered many amazing things about the human brain. I just love the sound of people screaming…how about the legs next?_

Pain spread up Max's legs, from her toes to her hips, feeling like someone was flaying her skin with a dull knife. She couldn't stop the screams, and she couldn't make her muscles move so she could stand.

_I think that's enough for now,_ Monica said. _Wouldn't want to damage the muscles so you can't crawl to me…_

"Go…to…hell," Max spat, still in pain.

_Silly little Max, with her dreams of winning…are you going to accept your fate, or do I continue?_

***

"You know," Dean said, as he and Luke walked back up to Max's apartment, "You're not a pretty good liar."

"What're you talkin' about?" Luke asked, not looking at him.

"Max likes _me_, doesn't she?" Dean asked quietly.

Luke squirmed, and said, "Don't tell her I told you…"

"Didn't plan to," Dean assured him. He knelt down to Luke's level, "Honestly, between you and me?"

"Yeah?" Luke asked.

Dean smiled slightly, "I like her too."

Luke smiled, and walked up the stairs. He paused, and looked down at Dean, who was a few steps below him, "Don't hurt her or my brothers'll kill you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Dean smirked, ruffling his hair as he passed him. Both froze when they heard Max's screams from the apartment. They ran the last few steps and Dean kicked the door open.

Max was breathing heavily on the kitchen floor. She looked at them, confused for a second. "Help me up…" She grimaced.

Dean pulled her to her feet, "Max…Justin found—"

"Wait…" Max held out a hand. Her breathing got worse, and she slid to the floor again, this time Dean caught her.

"Go downstairs," He barked at Luke, "Tell Justin to cast the spell…NOW!"

The boy nodded, and ran down the stairs, as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Max…?" Dean asked, trying to wake her up.

A few minutes later, she started screaming, "No…no…_NO!_"

"Max!" Dean shouted, gripping her tightly.

Max opened her tear-filled green eyes, her pulse was racing and she was sweaty. "What…what happened?"

"You tell me."

"Monica…she…" Max blinked, moving her arms and legs. "I thought she…"

"She did something," Dean told her, and got to his feet, helping her stand. "I'm gonna go check on Luke…you gave him quite a scare…"

Max gripped the bar, and cocked an eyebrow at him. "And, what? You see girls drop like this everyday?"

Dean frowned, but didn't want to answer. "I'll go check on him."

"You do that," Max said, heading for the sofa. Dean smirked at her, before closing the door behind him.

Max sighed, _Smooth move, O'Reilly,_ she thought as she just rested on the cool tile by her sofa. It felt better on her head at any rate. _Get the hots for a man who will be gone when this whole thing blows over…not the smartest thing you've done…_

_Wow, Max O'Reilly wants a man,_ the dreaded voice said, inside her head. Max felt her blood turn to ice. _A demon hunter at that…_

_Leave him alone, Monica,_ Max thought, _and get out of my head!_

_Poor, poor, Maxie, you just don't realize it yet, do you? I command you; I am your QUEEN!_

Max's head felt like it was burning, and she screamed with the agony, and writhed on the floor. Her arm raised up on its own accord and her fingernails curled into razor-sharp claws. More screams escaped her, as she held her demon-hand back like a dog on a chain.

Her front door slammed against the wall as Dean burst through it. Max's eyes widened, and she shook her head, "No! Dean, get away—"

"Not with the demon hand in control," Dean said, and raced for her, pulling her against his chest. He hoped the spell worked, and shoved his hand under her shirt, resting his palm against her back, and focusing on forcing Monica out of Max's mind.

Max shivered as she felt a wind blow around her. Monica's voice faded away, and the fire and the pain were cooled down. Her arm dropped as if a string had been cut. Max breathed, relieved that she _could_ breathe, and shook her head, "What…how…?"

"Werewolves have this…magical repellant I guess," Dean began. "It gets rid of the Thrall…not forever, but you see my point."

"But…you're not a wolf," Max pointed out. She honestly didn't care what he was, just as long as he didn't let her go anytime soon.

"There was a spell," Dean chose his words carefully. He didn't want Max to know about Justin's jealousy. He didn't think it'd go much farther than that though. "Justin found it. It gives a human the werewolf…essence is what he called it. It's supposed to wear off after a while."

Max just nodded, resting her head on his chest. "Nobody else's been kidnapped or controlled, right?"

"No," Dean assured her, shaking his head. "We made everyone check in. And kept nagging at the ones that didn't answer their phones, until we got an answer from them."

Max then smiled tiredly, "good…" Her smile slowly faded though, and she looked up at him fearfully, and asked, "You won't let anything happen to them, will you?"

"I'm a little more worried about you," Dean frowned. "You need to let us help you, Max."

"Hey, you've been helping," Max protested.

"You know what I mean," Dean said.

"If I let people help," Max shook her head with a grimace, "They'll die."

"Do you know that for certain?" Dean asked, "Sam and I, we've faced things twice as bad as Monica…"

"But…" Max stammered.

"But what?" Dean asked. "I mean, think about it, chop her head off, stake her through the heart, wait for her to keel over, we're good to go."

Max looked like she had more protest in her, but finally sighed, realizing they'd be useless. "So…you can keep Monica out of my head until she dies?"

"As far as Justin tells me. He said that we had to be touching in order to keep her out fully. I really don't think he knows how far this spell will hold."

Max nodded, then yawned. "We hafta share the bed, don't we?"

"Not if you don't want to," Dean said, "I'm sure there's something…"

"No, the bed's good…" Max said, nodding slightly. "As much as I like my furniture, nothing's big enough to hold us both…" She smirked at him, "But I ain't changin' in front of you."

"Aww, damn," Dean smirked. "And I was lookin' forward to that."

Max shook her head, and smacked him on the arm, "Can't you think of anything else?"

"Hey!" Dean said, in a mock-hurt voice. "Haven't I proven that already?"

"You've proven you're afraid of cats," Max shook her head, loosening Dean's grip on her, and getting to her feet.

She could hear Monica's evil laughter begin to build, and latched onto Dean's arm. A howl of annoyance, and the sound faded away. "Tomorrow…she's dying tomorrow," She said, rubbing her forehead with her free hand.

They both walked upstairs, and Max frowned at the mess of the room. "I gotta clean this…" She muttered, as she pulled a T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants out of the piles. She'd gone into the bathroom and closed the door, before Dean finally called back, "Hey! I ain't afraid of cats!"

"Just under the buzzer, Dean," Max called back. She'd changed and washed her face, and had begun brushing her teeth when something hit her bathroom door, making her jump, and bite down on her toothbrush. "What dah 'ell was zat?" She called, yanking the bristles from between her teeth.

"Sorry, my bad!" Dean answered.

Max rinsed her mouth out, and opened the door, finding a shoe print in the middle, and Dean's boot lying in the doorway. "Do I even want to know?"

"Not really," Dean shook his head.

Max picked up the boot, and tossed it, making it land in the pile Dean had made with his shirt, socks, and other boot.

"Lucky shot," Dean smirked.

"Aww, shut up Muscle Boy," Max rolled her eyes.

"Yep, that's me," Dean rolled his eyes.

Max raised an eyebrow, and shook her head, "Yeah-huh," She said in a nasally voice. "You've got a wild imagination my friend."

"Aww, come on, chicks dig me," Dean said.

Max lied down on the bed, then shifted, and shoved Dean off the bed with her legs. He groaned as he landed on the floor, and Max leaned over the side, "Betcha the chicks are gonna dig hearin' about that, too."

"Man…move over," Dean snapped, rubbing his hip where he'd landed.

Max did so, smiling proudly, "Makes you love me all the more, right?"

"Not when you shove me out of a bed," Dean shot back.

"Ah well," Max shrugged, and shifted so she was comfortable. "Good night, Muscle Boy," She said, giving him a pat on the head, then linked her arm around his, and buried the side of her face into her pillow.

Dean rolled his eyes, and stared at the ceiling. Plastic glow-in-the-dark stars were scattered everywhere, and a cardboard mobile of the planets hung in one of the corners, and Dean assumed that he turned out the light, the planets would glow too.

However, he wasn't tired yet. There was no TV…then again, he probably wouldn't be able to watch it anyway, without waking Max up. Dean looked over at her, and saw she actually looked happy. There was a smile on her face, and she muttered, "Stormie baby…come here fluffy puppy…"

_A dream with a dog,_ Dean shook his head. Max didn't seem like the type to have owned a dog, or any pet of any kind. Of course, she raised her brothers, after which she probably saw them as animals in general, and said, _'forget it.'_

Dean then glanced at the bedside table, and saw a book lying there. _Bones: Buried Deep._ He reached over, and turned to the first page, _I've got nothing better to do…_

***

Dean had reached the part of the story where an old man in his sixties, shot an FBI agent, took out the other, who was Seeley Booth, and dragged Dr. Brennan into his house, when Max finally stirred. Dean put the book back on the table when Max's eyes opened.

She woke up fully when she'd realized she'd tangled herself around him, and was using his chest as a pillow. "Um…I didn't…say or do anything…did I?"

Dean didn't feel like messing with her, so he said, "Just a name, _'Stormie'_, and asking the fluffy puppy to come to you."

Max blushed, "Oh…I was…kinda dreaming about my old dog, Storm. She was a Great Pyrenees…huge, and a big fluffy dog."

Dean nodded, "I never did own a dog."

"Pity," Max muttered.

Dean just shrugged. Max moved away, and he tried not to seem too disappointed by it.

"I'm sorry for getting all…grabby," Max stammered, "I'll roll over so I won't—"

Not sure what exactly came over him, Dean grasped her by the arms and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers.

He felt Max shudder, but not pull away. She actually seemed to melt, and when she pulled away, her only response was, "Wow…"

Dean smiled sheepishly, "You don't have to move…"

Max nodded, and appeared to be speechless. "Uh…um…wow…"

"Awe-inspiring," Dean smirked, "I like that."

Max shook her head, "You're not awe-inspiring. Good, but not awe-inspiring."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"You heard me," Max smirked.

"Want me to prove it?" Dean smirked back.

"Try me," Max said, rolling her eyes.

Off went the lights. A crayon-shaped lamp gave the room a dim glow, but was enough to make the stars glow. _Ha! I knew the planets would glow too!_ Dean thought, before turning again to Max, and matched her smirk, before becoming lip-locked again.

* * *

**Oh, and just so you guys know, I do not write sex scenes. I have nothing against them, I've just never been comfortable enough to write them. If you want to read how the scene is supposed to go, feel free to check out the book. But in my stories, all of this is left to the imagination.**


	11. Chapter 11

***

Max woke up, seeing moonlight poking through the blinds on her window, and finding herself immobile. She glanced at Dean, who had his arms wrapped around her, and was using her shoulder as a pillow.

_He's kinda…okay, is reeeeeally cute when he's sleeping,_ Max thought with a smile. Her mind began to wander, and she thought of her other friend, Maggie, who always thought along the same lines as Allison. _Ladies, eat your hearts out._ Suddenly, a cell phone's ringing cut the silence. It was Toccata and Fugue, which meant it was Max's cell phone.

Dean stirred, and opened his eyes when Max leaned over the side of the bed, taking her cell phone off of the other bedside table.

"O'Reilly," She said.

_"Come on, Max,"_ the voice on the other end said. _"Only _I_ get to do that, since my last name's Brennan."_

"Yeah, but I knew it was you," Max shook her head, "So I _am_ allowed to do that."

_"Whatever,"_ Maggie shook her head. _"So, I've heard the rumors…and that friend of yours called me last night."_

"Which friend?" Max asked.

_"Said his name was…I dunno, it was a rifle I think…"_

"A rifle called you?" Max joked.

_"Dean Winchester, that was his name,"_ Maggie said, _"Hey…is he hot?"_

"Maggie!" Max snapped, and heard Dean chuckle behind her. "Come on, is that all you can think about?"

_"Oh my god," _Maggie gasped, _"You had sex, didn't you?"_

"Your girl's good," Dean said, laughing out loud.

Max elbowed him, and smiled at the grunt of pain, "Fine, Maggie, I admit it, can we please be adults now?"

_"Was it good?"_

"Maggie!" Max snapped.

_"I'm assuming he's better than Dylan and Jonathan put together then, huh?" _Maggie snickered on the other end.

"Maggie, must we do this now?" Max asked, closing her eyes in frustration.

_"Sorry, hun,"_ Maggie laughed on the other end. _"Just checkin' in with you, makin' sure you're all right, but by the sounds of things—"_

"Okay, Maggie, thanks for the call," Max said, and slapped her phone shut. "Well, that's gotta be one of the single most embarrassing moments of my life."

"You banged the priest?" Dean asked.

_I stand corrected…_"He wasn't a priest in high school," Max frowned, "Ah well, I'm probably goin' to hell anyway…"

"Right there with you," Dean shrugged.

"Course, if I do end up dead, and do get inside the pearly gates, want me to put in a good word for you?" Max asked.

"Better put one in for all the Winchesters," Dean sighed.

"Noted," Max nodded. She lay back down on the bed, and pulled the covers over herself.

It was silent, until Dean shook his head, and chuckled, "I can't believe you banged a priest."

"At least I've never impersonated a priest," Max said, with her back to him.

"Hey…that was business," Dean frowned.

Max shrugged.

"Nuns don't count," Dean shot back.

"I had permission from the priest to imitate a nun," Max countered.

"Do you always have a comeback for everything?" Dean groaned.

"Hell yeah," Max nodded.

Dean shook his head, and settled back onto the bed. He wasn't asleep for five minutes, before he felt something latch onto him. "The Thrall never shuts up, does it?"

Max shook her head, and sighed. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he draped an arm around her, holding her closer.

"They gone now?" He asked.

Max nodded slowly, already half-asleep.

"Get some more sleep, Max," Dean said quietly, "You'll need it."

Max murmured something, then was silent.

For the first time in the past few days, Dean remembered Sam's vision. Max had been bitten by Monica…and would be bitten again, soon. _No,_ he thought, _She won't be bitten. Monica will die before that will happen._

***

This time when Max woke, she saw sunlight through the blinds instead. Dean was still asleep, and she gently lifted his arm from around her, and sat up. She dropped his arm and it flopped back down onto his chest. Dean squirmed slightly, but remained asleep.

_The ever-alert hero…_Max rolled her eyes, and got out of bed. Her mind was still fuzzy as she headed for the bathroom, then getting into the shower, turning on the hot water.

As she thought back to the previous night, the mixed feelings spilled over in her mind. As happy as she was, she couldn't help the choruses of _Bad Max!_ _Bad, bad, Max!_

She stood in the shower, feeling her hair get wet and stick to her head. On the one hand, Dean made her happier than…_oh…ol' what's his name,_ she thought with a smile in response to Dylan. On the other hand though, he was going to be high-tailing it out of there when this thing was over and done with, onto the next job, the next damsel in distress…_or whatever the guy in distress is…_

The thoughts ended there, when she sensed something. _Great, ding-dong, the witch is not dead…_

After getting out, and getting dressed, still not putting on boots yet, _What're the odds? _Max padded down the stairs, and saw Dean, half-dressed and with messed up hair, leaning against the counter, holding onto a cup of coffee. He looked at her clothing, and said, "I'm noticing a theme here."

Dark blue shirt, white tank underneath, black pants, and Max shrugged, "Eh…I do that sometimes…Luke thinks I dress like Bones."

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Bones…Temperance Brennan…" Max frowned, "You don't watch a lot of TV, do you?"

"Not lately…oh, that's the chick from the book," Dean said. "I was reading it last night…"

"Well, Luke says I dress like her…which I agree with, but try not to do…" Max shrugged.

"How's your head?" Dean then asked.

"There is a great disturbance in the Force," Max answered, getting her own cup of coffee. "It's not over yet."

Someone rapped on the door.

"Who is it?" Max asked.

"Justin," The wolf answered on the other side.

Max shook her head, and opened the door. "Yeah?" She asked, standing aside so he could enter.

"Mary called, she wants to move up the meeting," Justin said, walking past her. "I was kinda hoping we could go now…something's got her spooked, and I don't like it."

"All right," Max nodded. She turned to Dean, "There's only two seats…"

"'S okay," Dean nodded. "You can fill me in later."

Max nodded, and headed upstairs.

Justin raised an eyebrow at Dean's appearance, "Nice hair."

"I'm a little slow this morning," Dean shrugged, "Sue me."

"I'll bet after last night," Justin smirked.

"Dude…if you heard that—"

"Are you kidding? I can smell the two of you all over each other," Justin shook his head. "Well…it's on you more than it's on her…she took a shower this morning."

"I know, I heard her," Dean frowned.

At Dean's look, Justin rolled his eyes, "Once again, man, I can smell it. I have a wolf's nose! She used chamomile shampoo, and a cucumber melon body wash, it's all over her, along with you."

"I get you got the super nose thing goin' on there," Dean said, "Doesn't mean it's not weird."

"You've never met a Lycanthrope, have you?"

"I'd've thought you'd figured that out by now, Wolf Man," Dean rolled his eyes.

"Just checkin' the facts, Captain Hair," Justin shot back.

"Boys," Max said from the stairs, now wearing her boots, and carrying her leather duster over her shoulder, "How about we grow up and focus on the problems at hand?"

Dean walked over to the barstool, where he'd dropped his jacket, and reached into the pocket. He tossed Max her keys, which she caught easily.

"Come on, Justin," She said, donning the leather duster.

Sam entered just as they were leaving, grimacing slightly as the door closed.

"Still hearing the Thrall, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"It's…forget it," Sam shook his head, sitting on the empty barstool.

"Damn…you gave up," Dean frowned, "Thrall must be worse than I thought."

"You can block them out," Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm receiving the transmissions."

Dean reached out and gripped his wrist, "Works for Max, probably'll work for you."

After a few minutes, Sam looked less like his head was going to explode, and more like his old self. "Why couldn't I be the one with the wolf essence?"

"Because Max wants me and not you," Dean smirked.

Sam scowled, and shook his head, "Shut up."

"Hey, I learned some interesting facts about our new friend," Dean said.

"I'm sure I really don't want to know," Sam grimaced.

"She's got a heart tattoo on her—"

"Dean, I really could care less," Sam snapped.

"Hip," Dean finished.

"Great, you managed to score," Sam rolled his eyes. "Good for you."

"This Thrall thing has really made you cranky," Dean shook his head.

"Gee, I've only had a constant buzzing in my head since we got here," Sam snapped. "And don't tell me Max's been hearing that too, because she's learned to block them out."

"Well, you can't hear them now, can you?" Dean asked.

"Well…no…"

"You're welcome," Dean smirked. It was quiet for a minute, "But you gotta let me tell you 'bout the one on the back her neck—"

"No," Sam said simply.

"Well, you're stuck here with me," Dean said, "Unless you wanna face the world with the buzzing of the Thrall."

"And listen to Monica?" Sam asked, "No thanks."

"What do you mean, Monica?" Dean asked.

"She's been trying all night to get me to come to her lair," Sam grimaced. "You can't sleep, you can't think…you just hear her voice, and the voices of the Thrall. And they don't go away, they just keep calling for you."

Dean gripped Sam's wrist tighter. "The scary part of all this?"

"There's a scary part?"

"We know Monica has a lot of power," Dean pointed out. "And a lot of followers and hosts. We've met the Hosts and followers, but only heard the voice."

"Yeah…" Sam nodded.

"We've never met the woman," Dean said, "But she's got us all running in circles."


	12. Chapter 12

***

The drive to the Shamrock Hotel was silent, the tension thick in the truck. Max kept her eyes on the road, and finally said, "So Mary didn't give you a heads up?"

"She just called and said to come sooner," Justin said. "Any time that was sooner."

"Huh," Max said, pulling into the parking lot. "I just figured that—"

"Why Dean?" Justin suddenly asked.

Max yanked the keys out of the ignition, surprised they didn't break off inside. "Okay…that came out of left field. What are you talking about?"

"Why Dean?" Justin repeated. "I mean…you never go out anymore, after you dropped Dylan, suddenly the Winchesters blow into town, and—"

"And will leave when the threat is gone," Max said, forcing herself to sound irritated. Which was no mean feat, since she _was_ irritated she'd developed feelings for Dean in the first place.

Justin looked at her, and shook his head, "Whatever you say, Max," and got out of the truck.

Max's head dropped to the steering wheel in frustration, then made everyone in the vicinity jerk backward in fright when her horn sounded. She got out of the car, and Justin was watching her, grinning slightly. Max's cheeks turned red, "My bad…"

"Hello, my name is Max, and I'm an alcoholic," Justin smirked.

"Wrong meeting," Max fought to keep a straight face.

It wasn't hard to find room 150, considering Jake was standing guard outside it. He still didn't look like he trusted Max as far as he could throw her, but he let them pass into the room.

There were three people in the room, five once Justin and Max had entered. Jake remained outside, standing guard outside the door. One was Mary, who stood with her arms folded.

The place was a dive, complete with multi-colored shag carpeting, and tattered jungle print paper.

Max sat on the edge of the bed inside the room, being careful not to fall into the crater in the center. Justin walked toward the small bathroom, and used the closed toilet seat as a chair.

"I'm glad you could come," Mary said in greeting. "Max, I would like you to meet someone. This is Dusty Walker."

Max raised her eyebrows at the contrast, the picture Matt Quinn had showed her was a little girl in white lace and naturally blonde hair.

The teenager sitting on the dresser, however, had purple-black dread-locks, a stud in her nose, three in her right ear, four in the left, as well as one in her tongue, which was clicking against her teeth.

_Eh, who am I to judge? _Max asked herself, she had three piercings in her left ear, two in her right, plus in the cartilage of both ears. "I thought of getting a tongue ring…but I was always afraid I'd chip a tooth on it."

"Hasn't happened yet," Dusty shrugged.

_Great icebreaker…_

Mary cleared her throat, "Dusty has agreed to be a pack surrogate in exchange for protection."

"I'd figured that out," Max nodded.

Dusty spoke up, "I took evidence when I left home. Told him I'd go public with it if he didn't leave me alone."

"For the record," Max frowned, "Not the best idea."

At her comment, the blonde male sitting next to Dusty, who probably had as many if not more piercings than Dusty, sat up, and growled. Max instinctively reached for her wrist sheath.

"Enough, _Rob!_" Mary snapped.

Rob backed down, casting an angry glare at the floor.

"I won't go back!" Dusty snapped at Max.

"Did I ask you to?" Max asked.

"You were going to!"

"I was?" Max raised her eyebrows. "Funny, I don't know you, you don't know me, yet you automatically _know_ what I was going to say?"

Mary smacked her forehead, Rob glared at her, and Dusty blushed.

"Well…no…"

"I was just trying to make sure you were safe," Max explained. "For your uncle's peace of mind. I can see that means you're going to be safe with the wolves. Not entirely, but it's better than nothing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rob demanded. "You don't think we can keep her safe?"

"That wasn't what I meant, exactly…" Max frowned. "You can keep her safe from Monica, that much is certain. But then there's the threat from Matt Quinn. You said it yourself, he can make your lives hell. And he's not gonna stop until she's either back with him, or dead."

Dusty nodded thoughtfully, and Rob, not finding anything threatening about Max's words, eased up, and wasn't shielding Dusty from her anymore.

Dusty shivered, "My friend, Voneen, she was gonna be the next Thrall queen. And she was really excited about it, you know? I didn't know much about them, but Voneen said Monica was really pretty, and very nice. And the sex…it's supposed to be really incredible…they can make it to where it's just an explosion of sensation."

"So I've heard," Max said, and irritation could be heard in her voice.

Justin snorted, and turned it into a cough, while muttering something. Max glared at him, then returned her gaze to Dusty.

"Voneen seemed to like that," Dusty sighed, "She made it sound wonderful, with all the power and money…" She looked at her feet, and took a deep breath, "She said they wanted her to stay, but she snuck out. She looked fine, except for a weird swelling in her arm. But that went away after a while…"

Max nodded, arms folded, waiting for Dusty to continue.

"Around midnight, she wanted a hot bath. But when she closed the door, I kept hearing strange noises. Knocking and calling her did no good, and because of our crappy doors, I was able to push the locked door open."

She met Max's gaze, as angry tears slid down her cheeks. "Voneen was on the floor in convulsions. Her eyes were rolled up into her head, white like she was blind. I tried to keep her still, even tried splashing bath water on her face…but she probably didn't even know I was there." She shivered, "She was practically frothing at the mouth! I knew dogs could do that, but I never knew a person could!"

By now, Dusty was trembling, and Rob held her comfortingly. "We didn't have a phone, and I yelled till I was blue in the face, but nobody came. Eventually, Voneen stopped convulsing. I was just so relieved…"

"But…she was dead, wasn't she?" Max asked quietly.

Dusty bit her lip and nodded. "I ran down the stairs screaming…still, nobody came. An old black lady came to help, and called 911. She told me to make myself scarce, because the police would take me. I headed for the 7-11, and ran into Rob and Jake. We called Justin, and he came to pick me up." Her voice wavered slightly; "You _do_ understand why I couldn't go to the police, right?"

"Yes, I do," Max nodded.

Dusty concluded, "Mary explained that when a Host isn't strong enough…well, that's what happens. I can't go home, Matt will kill me. And I will not let what happened to Voneen happen to me. I'll kill _myself_ first."

Max nodded in agreement. "I understand that. If it were just the Thrall to worry about, I'd say you could disappear for a few days. The other threat is still gonna be there when you return." She sighed, "And something tells me Matt Quinn isn't gonna give up on this little vendetta." She turned to Mary, "Which brings us to the wolves. I guess we've already established that you guys can and will protect her."

Mary flashed her a smile that was all pointed teeth.

"I'll take that as a yes," Max said, smiling nervously. "Good, now that that's covered, what is Dusty's position in the pack going to be?"

"You know that female wolves are sterile."

"Heard it, but didn't know for a fact."

"Well, I am, as well as three other females in our dyad. The pack is the hunting group, the dyad is the mating pair and a small group that protects them and helps care for the young. I am the Acca, the leader. Dusty would be part of the dyad, but not the pack. I am the one who says when the dyad needs to grow. And right now, we need to grow to survive."

"And what would Dusty's role be in the dyad? I mean, does she get to finish her education, and have a career…or will she be some sort of brood mare?"

Mary smiled, "The surrogate is the most important member of the Dyad, and carries a large amount of authority. Though bearing and raising our young will be a large part of her life, she will have plenty of help, and will be allowed to pursue other interests if she wishes."

"And…will she have to accept any and all takers?" Max asked, "I mean, will all of them try and get her pregnant? Or does she get to choose who she wants to be with?"

"Naturally you'd be concerned with that, and you're right to be," Mary added the last part as Max began to protest. "We offered Dusty a choice of all the available males, all with qualities worth breeding." She took a breath, and continued, "And I should inform you, Jake may have found a second surrogate for us."

"That's good news then," Max replied.

"And, while Dusty and our second surrogate are deciding," Mary said, "Justin is off-limits to you."

"I understand that," Max nodded. "And I told you, that won't be a problem. So if Dusty or your second surrogate wants him they can have him…though I'd hope Dusty finds someone closer in age…no offense to either of you."

"None taken," Dusty said, smiling, and moving closer to Rob.

"I can tell you, whoever falls in love with Justin, whether it's a norm…um, sorry, a human woman, or a werewolf woman, they're going to be choosing one of the best God's green earth has to offer." Max said, and quickly explained, "I wasn't gonna say normal, as if it were bad to be a wolf, but I mean—"

"I know what you mean, Maxie," Mary smiled, "Guess you've found someone as well."

Max blushed to the roots of her hair, looking at her hands folded in her lap.

"But, that is not our point of this conversation," Mary said, taking the hint.

Max glanced at Dusty, who looked pretty cuddly with Rob, and smiled, "Guess Dusty's already made her choice too."

Dusty smiled back, "Yeah, I'm probably gonna mate with Rob. Justin's cute, but a little too old for me. He's not my type."

"Alrighty then," Max said. "Well, I know if anyone can keep her safe, it's gotta be you guys." She got to her feet, and headed toward the door. _Now there's only Dylan, the Thrall, and Dean to worry about…no, not Dean. No thoughts of Dean—_

She saw a flash of movement, and turned to see Rob crouched and ready to spring.

"I don't trust her," He said, "There's something she's not telling us!"

Instantly, Mary was next to him, "You will _not_ insult an honored guest of this pack! It is _my_ decision whether or not Max is trustworthy!"

Her growled words even made Max shiver. Rob was a lot taller than Mary was, but it was no good against Mary. The air around her seemed to crackle with energy, and her eyes burned in anger.

"You agreed to accept my authority when you joined our pack, Rob! Or perhaps you'd like to go back to the detention facility…that can be arranged you know."

Max was shocked when Rob dropped onto the floor to grovel.

"Forgive me Acca, I meant no disrespect. Forgive me honored guest," He then groveled at Max's feet.

"Um…no insult taken," Max said, and knelt down and patted his head. _At least I got it right,_ she thought, as she stood.

"Right," Mary nodded. "As Not Prey, you are my equal. I wouldn't want to insult you."

"And how would you insult me?" Max smirked.

Mary smiled, and shook her head; "Tell Dylan the girl's safe, but no more than that. We will make sure it is true."

"Works for me," Max shrugged. Her hand was on the doorknob when Dusty spoke again.

"You're actually okay with me being a surrogate?"

Max turned to face her, "Does my opinion really matter?" She shrugged, "I wouldn't know what it's like, my parents died when I was fourteen. But even at that age, half the time they told me something, I still didn't listen."

"So you don't care?" Dusty asked.

"I didn't say that," Max said. "I don't really think I'm okay with it. But it's not my life, it's yours. Nothing I say is gonna make you change the way you're living."

"True," Dusty admitted.

Rob sat on his knees, so Max had to reach around him to shake Mary's hand. "Good luck keepin' the kid safe. Quinn was waving a lot of money around. Chances are I'm not the only one lookin' for her."

Mary shook her hand, "Thanks for the warning."

Max gave a wave of farewell before heading back into the sunlight. She'd reached the _Falcon_ before Justin caught up to her.

"Hey, sorry about that. Mary's a terrific Acca, really," he explained.

"I'm sure of that," Max nodded, "I figured it was probably just stress."

"Yeah, Dusty's a very controversial choice for a surrogate," Justin nodded. "It's because of her background. They feel she's drawing too much attention to the wolves."

"Which is true," Max admitted. "You coming?"

"No, Mary wants me to stay here," Justin replied. "I'll catch a ride home later."

"Okay, see you then," Max nodded.

Justin sprinted back up the stairs, and disappeared into the room behind Mary.

As Max was getting her keys from her pocket, she sensed someone was watching her. She looked at the reflection behind her in her window, and saw a curtain shift.

Time seemed to slow down. Mary had opened the door to the room again, and Dusty stood behind her, a full head taller. There was a flash from the window, and it reflected off of Max's truck.

"MARY! LOOK OUT!" Max screamed.

Mary had transformed quickly and shoved Dusty to the floor as the gunshot rang out. Half a dozen wolves emerged and raced toward the shooter's room. The first werewolf to arrive was shot in the chest, and it exploded in a blast of blood and bone as a second shot rang out. Max gave a sigh of relief, she could sense it wasn't Justin.

Then she ran to room 150, and heard a high-pitched scream come from across the street. _He had it coming,_ Max thought, as she knelt at Dusty's side.

Her shoulder was shattered. Bits of bone showed through the bleeding. It wasn't spurting, but there was a pool of blood around her, soaking through Max's jeans, and the girl was staring at the ceiling, eyes wide with panic and shock. _If Mary hadn't shoved her out of the way…_Max didn't finish the thought as she ran to the bathroom for what she hoped were clean towels.

Mary was at Dusty's side, and Max handed her the towels. As Mary pressed them to Dusty's shoulder, ignoring Dusty's protests, Max headed for her truck, and grabbed her cell phone, dialing 911. She was sure someone in the neighborhood had to have done that, but you never could tell. Then she grabbed a laundry bag from behind the seat, and headed back over to the perimeter. "Hey hula-hands, put on some pants!"

Some of the wolves scowled at her, but Mary smiled at the comment. Max knelt beside Dusty, pressing the towels to the wound, and Mary went into the bathroom to change. The wolves reformed the perimeter after Max entered. "The police and ambulance are on their way," She'd announced. She turned to the wolves; "You guys might wanna change back."

When Mary had dressed and returned to Max's side, the other wolves had gone. The black sports bra she wore hung loosely on her chest, but the matching shorts were obviously too tight. "You're oddly shaped, you know that?"

"No," Mary smirked, "You're just too skinny."

"Hey, it's all muscle," Max smirked back.

She sat cooling her heels in the _Falcon_ before someone came to speak with her.


	13. Chapter 13

***

"Whoa…look at that," Luke said, watching the television. "Late-breaking story. A shooting at the Shamrock."

"Why would someone get shot there?" Noah asked, sitting beside him. "Who even goes to that flea bag?"

Dean frowned, "The wolves."

Noah didn't have anything else to say. "Wait…that's not Max, is it?"

"I dunno," Dean said, "Hey Psychic Wonder, had any visions?"

Sam rolled his eyes, and didn't even look at him. Dean walked into the kitchen, and closed the laptop.

"Well? Did you?" He asked in a low voice.

"No. No visions of any kind," Sam said, "Just the constant buzzing." He opened the laptop again; "I was trying to see if there was anything else on here…but probably the same as the news."

"All right then," Dean said, and grabbed his coat. "Let's do it the old fashioned way."

Sam sighed, and closed the laptop, following his brother.

"Tell Max we went to the park," Noah called after them.

"Yeah, we'll do that," Dean rolled his eyes, as they headed for the car.

***

"So you think the stepfather was responsible?" The officer asked.

He'd introduced himself to Max as John Andrews. He, like herself, was considered Not Prey. After discussing the Thrall's involvement, they'd moved onto the day's events, and that was the conclusion she'd come to as well.

"The shooter had a rifle with a scope. The Thrall isn't that big into guns. And it was the girl that got shot."

"Any suggestions then?"

"No visitors, check all doctor IDs, the works."

"It's not always that easy."

Now she sat on the bed, waiting. Felt like hours, probably had been hours. It gave her a lot of reflection time, and it wasn't things she wanted to reflect on in the first place.

When her thoughts drifted to Dean, besides the happiness, the little voice kept on chanting, _Bad Max! Bad, bad Max!_

As for Dylan, she was trying to figure out the nice way to say, 'take a hike'.

"Miss O'Reilly," a uniformed officer said, coming into the room. "Your story checks out, you're free to leave."

"And the girl?" Max asked, getting to her feet.

"She's under police protection. The step dad's raising holy hell about it, but we're trying to keep her safe…"

"Why do I feel a but in that sentence?" Max asked.

"Because Monica's got allies spread everywhere, in the hospitals, fire department, even in the US Mint…"

_Dammit,_ Max thought, as she headed outside. Dean and Sam were in the crowd, no doubt trying to find out what happened. Max waded in herself, finally reaching the boys, "Hey."

"You're okay…" Dean actually hugged her, which raised Sam's eyebrows.

"Yeah, they weren't after me, they were after Dusty," Max said to him. "She was injured, and I was helping…" She trailed off, her gaze going to the crowd. "Mother of God…"

"What?" Dean asked.

"She's here," Sam murmured, easily spotting the woman.

Aging gracefully was not something Monica had achieved, her hair fell in greasy hunks around her sallow face, and her red dress hung loosely on her skeletal frame.

"Yow…not exactly a cover girl, is she?" Dean nearly jumped when he heard the disembodied voice, _you really think we'll give you that choice?_

_Screw you,_ this time, it was Max's voice.

_So those are the Winchesters…_Monica shook her head, _and I'm assuming the shorter buffoon is the one you took to your bed._

_This short buffoon is gonna kick your ass,_ Dean thought angrily.

Monica snickered, _doubtful. It isn't professional to fall in love…and your wolf-friend learned that the hard way. Of course, he's safe with us, for now._

Mary growled, "Hurt one of my wolves, and it's war!"

"What do you want?" Officer Andrews asked.

_You know what I want;_ Monica smiled, which was full of malice. _And Max will give it to me…unless she wants a slaughter to ensue. I have many more children spread far into the city. And they're all waiting for my command._

"I say we kill her now," Dean snapped, "All the monsters would die off, and the queen bitch would go down screaming."

_Without an heir they'll die anyway,_ Monica shrugged his threat off. _And how many humans are you willing to kill Maxie? How many, when you know that all we want is you?_

Max flinched at the name, more so because she knew Monica was right.

"I'll do it!" Sam stepped forward.

"Are you insane?" Max cried.


	14. Chapter 14

_He wouldn't work anyway,_ Monica shook her head.

"And when has that stopped you?" Max demanded. "You wanted to take him yesterday…and what was it you said? All his psychic talent was going to waste?"

_True, his psychic ability would make him a perfect choice for an heir, but he is already marked by something else. _Monica shook her head sadly; _I am not allowed to use him._

_Marked by what?_ Max wondered, narrowing her eyes at Monica.

Ignoring Max's question, Monica replied, _It must be Maxine, whether by choice or by force. It really doesn't matter which._

Max scowled, "I am _Not_ Prey. You can negotiate with me or you can challenge me. But you can't _force_ me to do anything."

_I will give you their lives; you will give me yours. _

_I don't think so;_ even Max's expression screamed it. _I won't agree to anything that gives me less than a fifty-percent survival rate._

_If we do not agree?_

_Look, I will challenge you to a duel. The queens won't let you refuse. You can't fight them, and me, and your children will die._

_Not before we take as many of you with us as we can!_

Her Thrall members stepped forward as one; there were twenty, maybe thirty of them.

"Damn…" Dean whispered.

_Four against thirty…yeah, that's fair,_ Max shot back.

A few officers showed movement, and Andrews shouted, "Nobody move!"

Max used every ounce of her will to prove she wasn't going to be Monica's scapegoat.

_ENOUGH!_ The Queen hissed. _State your terms._

***

_It has to look weird to outsiders,_ Max thought nervously. _Obviously it does…two women, facing off, glaring at each other but saying nothing…_

Max took a deep breath, and said in as calm a voice she could muster, "Andrews, you took notes, can you read back to us the terms?"

Andrews cleared his throat, but his hands shook as he read, "Monica and all of the Thrall Hosts and Heard she commands will allow every other Non-Herd, Non-Host presently here to leave unmolested. No Thrall will interfere with them in any way for the next forty-eight hours. They will not _ever_ extract any vengeance or punishment from any one of them for any actions they may take in the next forty-eight hours with regard to helping you in your attempt to not become queen. She may not take control of any of your limbs to use against you, or cause you mental pain for any reason."

Another deep breath, though it was shaky going in, and shakier going out, and Max closed her eyes as she said, "Continue."

"In exchange—you, Rosemary-Maxine O'Reilly, will allow Monica to lay eggs in the vein of your left forearm for thirty seconds. You will not make any attempt to manually remove the eggs from your arm for at least two hours from the end of the thirty seconds during which Monica lays the eggs in your arm. You will not go to any medical professional for assistance in dealing with the eggs. You will not attempt suicide for the next seventy-two hours. And you will allow one of the nestlings to accompany you to make sure that your allies do not go against the negotiated terms."

Max, Sam, and even Mary, glanced at Dean. "Why's everyone lookin' at me?"

Max rolled her eyes, and asked, "Monica, do you agree to those terms on behalf of yourself and your people?"

_I do, but of course I can only speak for those I control. You will need to negotiate with the other Thrall queens separately. And you, Maxine?_

With a glance at Dean, Sam, and Mary, Max nodded, "I do."

Monica stepped forward, wearing a triumphant grin. Her gums were so aged they had turned black.

With a grimace, Max pulled off the leather duster, and handed it to Mary. She un-strapped her wrist sheath, and handed it to Dean, whispering, "Just in case."

She walked toward Monica, and rolled up her sleeve, revealing her pale forearm. _I can taste your fear,_ Monica said, her grin widening.

_Screw you, _Max spat, _And let's just get on with this. _"Who's going to time this?"

"I will," Sam called out.

Max nodded, and shoved her own watch into her pocket. Seeing Monica up close was twice as bad as seeing her from afar. She couldn't help the choked, "Oh God!" when she caught the stench of the decay. Multiple skin lesions, though hidden carefully with the palest makeup in existence, gave proof that the end was near. Max recoiled, which made Monica angry, and she snatched Max's forearm.

Monica was not only going to lay her eggs, but she was going to make it _hurt_. The vampire raised Max's arm to her lips, and they peeled back revealing the ivory fangs, which were all that remained in the blackened gums.

Max was still fighting the urge to vomit when she turned to Sam and nodded once.

"Now!" He announced.

The pain was sharp and quick when Monica bit down. She filled Max's mind with boiling lava, which was not outside of the terms. Max wanted to scream, strike out, do something, but she forced herself to remain still. She would not give Monica the satisfaction of knowing how much it was hurting her.

"Time!" Sam shouted.

Monica retracted so fast; one of the eggs slid off her fangs and hit the ground. A wave of sorrow went through Max as the Hive mourned the egg's loss. But twelve eggs were nestled in Max's arm, and she was glad Monica was satisfied with that.

Max then blinked, and her ears popped. All of Monica's nestlings were gone except one, and it startled Max because she never even noticed them leave.

_Soon you will be able to do this,_ Monica promised.

_Not if I can help it!_ Max shouted at her. Shaking her head, she turned to Sam, "How long were we out?"

Sam glanced at his watch and his eyes widened, "Fifty minutes!"

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Max snapped smacking her forehead, "Shoulda known she would find a loophole!"

_I am completely within the terms, Maxine,_ Monica's voice said flatly. _It was perfectly legal to enthrall you for the entire time, to protect myself and my nestlings from the wrath of your allies, and most of all your hunter man-whore who's carrying a gun concealed in his waistband._

Max didn't bother answering her. She was trying to figure out the next step. Her arm was already starting to swell, and the eggs had grown, they looked like little beads, pressing themselves against the skin of her forearm.

Andrews kept muttering, "Fifty minutes, they could've slaughtered us all…"

Mary spoke up, "Where do we go from here?"

"We?" Max asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look, Rosemary-Maxine!" Mary snapped. "You saved Dusty when you yelled out that warning, and you saved the rest of us by letting that…_thing_ infect you. We're allies. I'm sticking to you like glue!"

"You and the Winchester boys," Max smiled.

"Besides," Mary shuddered, "I _told _you, you are the _last_ person on earth I'd want as a queen vampire."

"No kidding," Andrews said, "I'll drive."

"No," Max said.

"Sam will be driving," Dean spoke up. "But if he screws up my car, he's a dead man."

"Thanks," Sam rolled his eyes.

They all headed for the Impala, Mary, Max, and Dean slid into the back, while Sam, along with Andrews and another officer climbed into the front seat.

"Where to?" Sam asked, as Dean gave him the keys. He'd just hit the ignition, when there was a tap at the window.

"Aww man," Dean grimaced, "Do I have to let him in the car?"

"Do we need to go over the terms again?" Andrews said. "Adams, out."

The other officer nodded, and got out of the car after Andrews. The vampire slid into the middle seat next to Sam, and Andrews got in after.

"Can't you just take a cab?" Sam asked, not liking this turn of events.

"That violates the terms," The vampire said.

"How?"

"Sam, just drive," Dean sighed, wanting more than anything to shove the vampire through the door and take off. Max's head dropped onto his shoulder, and he gripped her good hand.

"I need to cut off blood flow to the arm," Max said quietly.

"A tourniquet could work," Mary suggested.

"Bootlace," Max said quietly.

Dean draped his arm around her shoulders, then felt her forehead. He frowned at Max's rising temperature, while Mary grabbed the bootlace and the last knife sheath. She tucked the sheath away somewhere, then tied the tourniquet around Max's arm.

Max, who'd drifted out of consciousness, woke up, and grimaced, "That thing hurts…"

"You asked for it," Dean reminded her.

"Still," Max shrugged. She sat up, and Dean held her to try and keep her that way.

"I ask again, where to?" Sam glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

"We need to stop at a liquor store first," Max said woozily.

"What for?" Mary asked.

"Alcohol kills the vampire eggs," Dean explained as Max drifted off again. "And hurry it up, I don't want that thing in my car any longer than it needs to be."

The vampire hissed at him, and Dean gave it the finger.

"Don't make it mad," Max warned, shaking her head to clear it.

"Especially since it's sittin' between the driver, and a police officer," Sam said, trying to stay on his side of the car.

"Pay more attention to the road than the vamp, Sammy," Dean snapped.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to go with Dean on this one…" Max said slowly. "But a request…keep your…eyes peeled…"

"I know, I know," Sam nodded, pulling into the liquor store's parking lot. "Any specific preference?"

"Sam, she's out again," Mary sighed, "Just go grab something…anything. And probably a bottle of whiskey…"

"Don't forget the ice!" Dean then said, "Her arm won't last without ice."

"Right," Sam nodded, and slid out of the driver's seat. He walked into the store, and grabbed the nearest bottle of Jack Daniel's, a bottle of whiskey, and a bag of ice.

The clerk chomped on his gum, sounding like a horse. "Can I help you?"

Sam's nerves were shot, and he resisted the urge to just walk out of the store without paying, "Yes. I'd like to pay for this."

"Will that be all?"

Sam frowned, "Uh, yeah, that will be all."

The clerk continued chomping. "Are you over 21?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"You got ID?" The clerk popped his gum.

Sam reached for his wallet, but when he found it, couldn't find the ID. _That damn law…when you need to find something, you can never find it…_ "Um …" he frowned, "Can't you just take my word for it that I'm twenty-three?"

"Can't sell without ID," The clerk shrugged.

"Look, just take the card, and ring it up," Sam growled.

The clerk grabbed the credit card, and began to make the transaction anyway, then frowned, "Sorry sir, we don't take credit cards."

They heard the shouting, and the crash made them all look at the store. Sam came out, carrying two bottles along with the bag of ice, while hunched over in frustration. He got into the car, and handed the bottles and bag to Mary.

The vampire cocked his head at Sam, "What—?"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped.

"This'll be a good story," Dean muttered. He helped Mary slide Max's left arm into the ice. "Hey, Max, wake up."

Max's eyelids fluttered, and she gave a quiet groan, but nothing else.

"Come on, Max," Dean said louder, "You gotta wake up."

"It's the venom from the eggs," Mary said as the Impala left the parking lot. "It's meant to lull the victim, to give the eggs time to hatch.

Dean glanced at the vampire, which looked ecstatic. "You don't wipe that look off your face, and I'll pump you full of silver."

"You have a permit to carry concealed?" Andrews asked from the front.

Dean's eyes widened, and he focused on Max.

"You're helping Max," Andrews said. "You guys are okay in my book. If it were anyone else…"

"You get special privileges for helping the favored damsel in distress," Max was finally coherent.

"All part of the job description," Dean smiled slightly at her.

"Gimme my drink," Max then said.

Dean handed her the bottle of Jack Daniel's, and opened the cap. She grabbed it, and took a few sips. Then instantly looked ready to get rid of it. "Sorry, it's a rule, no hurling on the upholstery."

"Trying…" Max said, and tucked her free arm against her stomach. "She doesn't want me to drink it…doesn't want it to stay down…" She drank more of it, "I want her to _die_."

Toccata and Fugue filled the car, and Dean grabbed Max's cell phone from its clip on her belt.

"It's your brother," Dean frowned to Max, and answered it.

"Dean, where's Max?" Noah said worriedly.

"She's right next to me, what's wrong?" Dean asked, but he had a feeling he already knew what happened.

"It was…the Thrall…" Noah explained.

"What? What did they do?" Dean asked. "Noah, tell me, what did they do?"

"They came to the park…they kidnapped Luke!" Noah cried.

"What?" Max asked, when she saw Dean's face drop a few shades.

"Monica got herself an extra bargaining chip," Dean said grimly, closing the phone.

"Luke," Max swallowed roughly.

The psychic yelling was powerful enough for both the vampire and Sam to hear it, and flinch. Max let loose a whole string of curses directed at Monica.

_Just another little chip, Maxie, you understand,_ Monica's voice said sweetly. _As long as you don't violate the agreement, your wolf-friend and your baby brother will remain safe._

_Says you,_ Sam snapped, finally able to say something. _And how is it that your kidnappings don't count as violating the agreement?_

_It's a little thing called a loophole, Sammy,_ Monica replied. _You'll just have to trust me that they will be safe in my care. Just that you trust that your big brother will be safe once Maxine is queen._

"I really don't like her," Sam said out loud.

"Join the club," Max grimaced, taking another swig of Jack Daniel's. 

By the time they'd reached the church, Max had managed to force down half the bottle, and not to vomit in the car. But every time she fought the hatchling's will, it was more and more of a struggle. _Either she's getting stronger, or I'm getting weaker…or possibly both._

"Just hang on a little while longer," Dean murmured in her ear. "It's almost over."

_Yeah, but to what extent?_ Max wanted to ask him. _The hatchling's life, or mine?_


	15. Chapter 15

Rob was waiting for them outside of the church, guarding the door. Max looked around, and understood why.

Thrall Hosts had surrounded the church, and most were trampling the flowerbeds around it.

"Aww, come on," Max muttered, "I helped plant those…"

"Let's just focus on getting you inside," Dean murmured.

Rob held the door open, and the group marched inside the church. He let the door go as the Thrall Host was walking in, and the large door hit him in the face. "Sorry, my bad," Rob smirked, and let the Host in.

Max looked at her arm, and frowned at the skin that started to turn purple. "Mary?"

"Yeah?"

"If this goes badly," Max said quietly, "I want you to take my arm. I know you can do it."

"Someone will do it," Mary assured her.

"I will," Rob volunteered. "I give you my word on that."

The vampire hissed at him. A nightstick came out of nowhere and clocked him in the face.

"Whoops, that flew right out of my hand," Sam said innocently.

"Hey…that's his weapon!" The vampire snapped at Sam, while pointing at the officer.

"I never saw that thing before in my life," Andrews said, shaking his head.

Max headed over to the marble foyer, and lay down on the floor. She asked, "Andrews, do you have your handcuffs?" Without missing a beat, she said, "Shut up Dean."

Dean knelt down beside her, held his arms up in surrender, and asked innocently, "Why pick on me? My brother's the one who clocked the vampire with the nightstick!"

"I want to make sure I hold my arm _really_ still," Max said, holding her wrist against one of the ribs of the railing above.

Andrews cuffed her wrist there, and said, "I need a sharp knife and a bowl. You two," He pointed to Sam and Mary, "Hold down her legs. You, gun-boy, hold her arms steady."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Like I had a choice?"

"Dean…don't mouth off to the police officer," Max said tiredly.

"And you, vampire," Andrews continued, "Get the hell out of the way." He motioned to Jonathan, "Watch him, make sure he doesn't interfere."

The vampire watched the eggs eagerly; "We will not break the truce."

"Stop staring at me, or I will," Max snapped.

"Here's a knife," Mary spoke up, handing Andrews Max's discarded knife. "And it's sharp."

"I'd certainly hope so," Both Dean and Max muttered.

"I swear, god made two of 'em," Sam shook his head.

Mary raised her eyebrows, "Yeah, I agree with you."

Jonathan had disappeared into another room, and came back with a silver fruit bowl. He filled it a third of the way full of whiskey, and knelt amidst the group, muttering a blessing over the whiskey.

"And they say alcohol is unholy," Max muttered.

"Who says that?" Dean asked.

Max thought for a moment, "I think my mother said it once…eh, maybe that's not the case…oh well."

She tried to ignore Andrews, who advanced on her with the knife drawn. Gazing at the nicely painted ceiling, she could sense the eggs. Still un-hatched, they throbbed with life. The strongest one was still there, waiting for her time to hatch. Which, if Max was any judge, would probably be in about two minutes, "Hey…can we hurry this along?"

"We can't go too fast," Andrews pointed out. "If we damage the eggs, it could kill you."

"Charming thought," Max grimaced.

Sam cringed slightly as Andrews cut into Max's arm. She watched, her arm moved slightly, but that was it. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"No, not really," Max answered lightly. "The ice did its job."

Andrews moved the knife carefully, extracting a single egg whole, then dropping it into the whisky. It hissed and burned away. Sam heard a scream as the egg dissolved.

"Shouldn't there be more bleeding?"

"The eggs are absorbing most of the blood," Max said, "Plus, there's the tourniquet."

"Crap…" Andrews said, "What I wouldn't give for a pair of tweezers."

Jonathan turned to Mary, "Hold onto this," he said, handing her the bowl of whiskey.

"You may not aid! It's forbidden!" The vampire spoke up, blocking Jonathan's path.

It happened very quickly. A pony-sized wolf leapt at the vampire, and fangs sank into the silver fur. The wolf screamed, then there was the crack of the vampire's skull on the floor.

"He shouldn't have done that," Sam grimaced. He could sense Monica's fury, and the fury of one of the eggs.

"They're both really pissed off now," Max agreed.

Jonathan ran to the other room, still in search of the tweezers. Outside the church, the bodies of the Thrall members and herd rammed the doors.

"And so are they," Dean frowned. "Ah jeez…" He looked away as Rob ran to barricade the door with a large crucifix, naked from his transformation.

"Yeah…that was more than we needed to see," Sam said, looking away as well.

Max felt another tug on her arm, as Andrews had another egg on the knife blade. She felt a wave of panic when the hatchling realized what was happening.

"Got 'em!" Jonathan announced, and handed the tweezers to Andrews.

The tweezers sped up the process, but it wasn't good enough.

"Monica's in control!" Sam called out, as Max began thrashing around. It took both wolves, and both Winchester brothers to keep Max still enough to continue destroying the eggs.

With Dean and Mary kneeling on her shoulders, Max could only watch in blind fury as the Thrall children were taken from her.

Outside, Monica fell to her knees as the eighth egg burned, and was dead by the destruction of the ninth.

Both Sam and Max felt a white-hot explosion of pain, which caused both to cry out. They could sense the Hosts outside withering and dying.

Dean looked at Sam nervously, and he gave a small smile, "She's dead."

"Phase one, complete," Dean nodded.

_NO!_ A voice screamed. _The nest will live! The nest will live!_

Max gained control again and screamed, "Dammit! One of them's hatched!"

Then that was it. Max O'Reilly was no more, as the yolk hit her bloodstream. The hatchling now had control; she could feel the minds of every human around her. _Monica's dream will be complete, and the hive will live!_

Every emotion, every thought, she could feel from the humans. She could feel the Thrall queens, waiting for her to arrive. They gave her the will to survive.

She struggled to attack the minds of the humans. She went for Andrews, but his mind shut her out. It was a shield of determination and his will to save the shell of the Host that had once been Max O'Reilly. To him, the Thrall was just a thing to be destroyed.

The wolf was next, but her mind was barred. The magic kept her at bay, and was impossible to break into. She could almost hear a voice; _I'd like to see you try._

Then she felt _Him._ The Host's man-whore…the hunter Dean Winchester. He would be the first to go, followed closely by that werewolf. His brother wasn't to be touched; it was an unspoken rule. The Host was never one for rules; maybe she would turn him into a Host as well. Keep him around; make him the next queen when this reign was over. But Dean Winchester would certainly have to be destroyed that much was certain.

A harsh slap across the face. The man-whore stood over the shell, hand raised to strike again. "Focus Max," He said. "You can fight it."

_Maxine no longer controls this shell,_ the hatchling shouted into his mind.

He smacked her again.

Both could feel the bruise starting to form, and when he reared back for a third time, Max finally broke free. She caught his arm, and gripped it tightly.

"I'm back," she breathed.

_But not for long!_ She could feel Max's face change, as she began to fade away.

"No…no!" Max was screaming. "I won't go back again!"

"Max, fight her, you can do it!"

_He will die for his interference!_

_NO! I won't let you!_ Max screamed mentally.

"Sam, take over," Dean said, gripping Max's wrist.

"But I've never done anything like this!" Sam protested, still hanging onto Max's legs. "I could screw it up and hurt her!"

"Better than nothing," Dean said.

Sam shoved Andrews out of the way, and the man took over holding onto the girl's legs. Sam worked faster at the eggs, and soon, the other un-hatched ones were dissolved in the whiskey.

"How about the hatchling?" Dean asked. "Can you see it?"

Sam said nothing for a few minutes, "No."

Dean blinked, and felt the moisture in his eyes. Mary gave him a pitying look, then called out for Rob. Dean gripped Max's good hand, and kissed her forehead.

"She knows," Max said, trying to warn them. "She knows what's about to happen!"

The hatchling burst through Max's arm, causing a small explosion of muscle tissue and blood.

"Mother of god!" Andrews shouted, as the thing slithered up Max's chest.

Max clapped her mouth shut, trying not to scream. She'd done enough screaming for one lifetime. "Stop her," She pleaded through gritted teeth.

Dean grabbed the bowl of whiskey, and tossed it on her. It splashed her neck and face, burning both the hatchling, and Max's nasal passages. The hatchling gave a final scream of pain using Max's vocal chords, and then it was over.

Max coughed as the whiskey seared her throat, then passed out.


	16. Chapter 16

***

"Should we wake her up?" A small voice asked.

"Come on, after all she's been through, let her sleep," Another said.

"But she's been sleeping for three days," A third voice joined the group. "She should be awake by now."

"You know how much psychic ability is needed to force off a Thrall host like that?"

"Do _you__?_"

"Well…no…"

"Neither do I."

Max grimaced, she'd wanted to just drift back off to sleep, but she realized her brothers weren't going to let her. "Assuming this wasn't some horrible dream," She said, "Please tell me it's over at least?"

"Maxie!" Her brothers cried in unison.

"Yes, I am Rosemary-Maxine Marianna O'Reilly," Max said, and there was a slight relief in her voice. "Not Rosemary-Maxine, the Thrall Queen."

"And I'm not vamp-food," Luke smiled, standing closest to her.

Max smiled slightly; "I can see that."

He hesitated a moment, then launched himself into her arms, somehow avoiding all the tubes that were attached to her. Max held him tightly, feeling tears fill her eyes. She motioned for the other boys to join them, and they did, slower. She hugged all of them close; happy none of them had been killed, or worse.

"How's Justin?" Max asked, "I know he was taken first."

"He's one room over," Noah explained. "He has a couple of broken ribs, and some of the Thrall goons sliced him up good."

"Dylan came to the rescue," Luke said.

Max frowned, "He did?"

"Yeah," Luke nodded. "When me and Justin got out, they were all over him…I don't think he made it out."

Max nodded, but said nothing. She felt nothing, well, she felt bad that Dylan was probably dead, but not in the way she expected to feel.

"You didn't want to get back together with him, did you?" Luke then asked.

Max shook her head, "No. Our thing's long done. Even if he had lived, we weren't getting back together."

***

Sam walked into the hotel room, seeing Dean packing already. "What's up?"

"Got coordinates," Dean said, shoving a pair of jeans in his bag. "We've gotta go."

"What?" Sam asked, "I thought we were visiting Max first."

Dean stiffened slightly, and his voice wavered slightly when he muttered, "I can't."

"You can't?" Sam asked.

Dean didn't answer, just continued to shove clothes in his bag. _I don't want to see the look on her face when we have to leave for good,_ he answered silently. "Look, I already called her, she knows we've got coordinates." _Even though it was only a voice mail message…_

Sam wanted to say that he was making a mistake. Or, that they should go visit Max. He wanted to say _something,_ but he knew better. It would just end in an argument that he would never hope to win. With a sigh, Sam began packing his own things. He glanced at Dean, and noticed his brother kept wiping at the corners of his eyes. _So maybe the Tin Man has a heart after all._

***

_"So, this Dean guy…"_ Maggie said. _"He's hot, and he's good. I advise you to marry this man immediately."_

"He's gone, Mags," Max sighed.

_"What?"_

"He hunts these things," Max explained. "Things like Monica…the supernatural, if you will. And he left."

_"God, Maxie, did you fall in love with him or something?"_ Maggie asked.

Max shook her head, "Nope. I knew he was leaving. Knew he had to leave…I shouldn't have even—"

_"Max, you trust him,"_ Maggie told her. _"And you care about him. But you won't let yourself admit it. You normally fight for what you want, so why are you not going after him?"_

"Maggie…" Max sighed. "It wouldn't work. He travels, and he'll always be traveling. He'll always be after…whatever it was he was going after in the first place."

_"Max…maybe you should call him,"_ Maggie suggested.

"Maggie…" She sighed again. "Look, I'm tired, can we discuss this at a later date?"

_"Yes, you cowardly-brave-stupid-smart person. Besides, I have to go anyway." _Maggie paused, then said, _"And prepare to give me details."_

"Sure thing, Mags," Max rolled her eyes, and smiled. She clicked the phone off, and put it on the coffee table with her good arm. _Whoever said that the Vampire queen lays eggs in the left arm was an idiot._

She grabbed her cell phone, and called her voicemail, accessing the saved messages.

_"Max…"_ Dean's voice was hesitant, and filled with regret. _"Bad news…our dad sent us coordinates, we have to leave. I really…"_ she could hear him sigh, her mind's eye could see him running a hand through his hair in frustration. _"I um…I don't know what to say. I can't think of a reason good enough for why we couldn't see you one last time. Maybe because I'm really a coward, I'm not sure…I don't expect you to be thrilled with my decision…and I wouldn't mind if you hated me, because I probably deserve it. Although I wish you wouldn't…"_

Max sighed, and listened to the rest. When the message ended, she sighed, "I don't hate you…never will. I wish you luck in your vendetta." She closed her phone, and thought of actually calling him, telling him those words…but chose not to, and nodded off instead.

***

Sam woke in the middle of the night, feeling like something was amiss. He glanced across the room, and saw Dean's bed was empty. The bathroom door was ajar, with the light turned off. He looked out the window into the parking lot, and saw the Impala was still there, with a shadowy figure sitting in the front seat.

Frowning, Sam threw on a pair of jeans, as well as his sneakers, and headed out to the car. Dean's head was resting against the driver's seat, clearly he hadn't meant to fall asleep here, but did so anyway. Sam could hear the radio going, Green Day's _Give Me Novocaine_ coming from the speakers. He turned and headed back for the room, shaking his head, wondering how long Dean would keep this up.

***

There was a knock at Max's door. She frowned, and as she headed for it, let down her mental shields and sensed who was behind the door. It wasn't a wolf, but it wasn't anything Thrall related either.

She opened the door slightly and replied, "Come on in then."

"You decent?" The visitor asked.

"Come in Dusty," Max smiled. She shook her head, and headed for the kitchen, as Dusty came in, carrying a vase of flowers, and a fishbowl.

"To make you feel better," She said, nudging the door closed with her hip. "I know you don't really like pets in here, but I was wondering if a fish would be a peace offering?"

A male beta swam happily in the tank, and was a mix of blues and reds. The fishbowl had a lid on top, with tiny holes popped into it.

"I think that can be arranged," Max smiled. "Now what do you want?"

Dusty frowned, "Can't a person do something nice?"

"You said peace offering," Max shook her head. "And as much as I like you, I know nothing comes for free."

"Okay," Dusty now smiled as well, "Well…me and Rob kinda need a place to stay…" She held her hands up in defense, "And before you freak out, I meant in one of the almost-finished apartments. Until we can get on our feet…because of the whole thing, Rob lost his job…"

"I guess that can be okay," Max nodded.

"We can finish the renovations to your liking," Dusty continued. "And I was going to ask you this at Uncle Dylan's funeral, but I didn't see you. Did you go?"

"No," Max shook her head. "I was kinda tired…"

***

Dean walked into the room, carrying two coffees, and a box of doughnuts. He set them down on the table, and rubbed his neck.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Must've slept wrong or something," Dean shrugged it off.

Sam shook his head, and skimmed a few news sites for possible jobs. He noticed Dean kept checking his cell phone, and asked, "Expecting a call?"

"No," Dean said quickly.

"Why don't you just call Max and get it over with?" Sam asked.

"Why don't you shut up?" Dean snapped.

Sam held up his hands in surrender, and shook his head, going back to the laptop.

***

"So…" Dusty said, painting Max's fingernails, "Why black and blue?"

"Heard it in a cartoon once," Max shrugged. "That was my color theme while Dean was here…"

"Dean again?" Dusty rolled her eyes. "Max, just call the guy and get it over with."

"Why should I?" Max snapped.

"First of all, you've mentioned him ten times in the last half hour," Dusty pointed out.

Max sighed, "I knew he was leaving. He had to leave…I should call him though."

"Yeah, tell him how you feel," Dusty said.

"No," Max shook her head. "I want my Green Day tape back."

"How do you know he was the one that took your tape?" Dusty asked.

"The job was neat, nothing was scratched," Max said, blowing on her nails to dry them, "He didn't break the window, and he took the one tape. Nothing else."

"Still doesn't prove it was him," Dusty said.

"Someone set foot in my car, and whoever it was had boots covered in rock salt." Max shook her head.

"So there was a damning piece of evidence at the scene," Dusty replied.

Max responded with a nod, "Pretty much."

***

"So we're going back now?" Sam asked, seeing the familiar roads.

"Yep," Dean said.

"Why?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"I don't think this thing is over yet," Dean frowned. "I mean…think about it, there were other followers that weren't Hosts, right?"

"Possibly," Sam nodded. "And, if they were human, then they didn't die when Monica did. So, they're still around, wanting revenge."

Dean nodded, "So, job's not over yet…which means, we can't do the other one, until we finish this one."

"That's the logical thinking, yeah," Sam nodded.

"And then…we move on to the next one," Dean said hesitantly.

"As in, find the next one, or we have another one already?" Sam asked.

"We…kinda have to do this new one when we're done with the next one," Dean frowned.

"What?"

"We got coordinates about a couple of days ago," Dean explained. "But…we were kinda busy…you know?"

Sam gave a nod, then it hit him and he smirked, "The vampire thing isn't the only reason we're going back, is it?"

"Shut up."

***

Dusty was quiet, "So…you said you didn't go to Uncle Dylan's funeral. Was he the reason why? This Dean guy?"

"Not really," Max frowned. "I just figured Clarissa would probably try and blame the whole thing on me—"

Speaking of the devil, the door burst open, and Clarissa stood in the doorway. "You're right, Max! I do blame you! It's your fault they all died, you and your damned need to win!"

"Aunt Clarissa, no!" Dusty shot to her feet. "Don't do this!"

Max was on her feet as well, saying, "Dusty, find Justin!"

Clarissa grabbed at Dusty, but the girl ducked away, and out the door. Clarissa shook her head, and smiled viciously, pulling something out of her pocket.

"What are you going to do, Clarissa?" Max smirked; wondering what Clarissa had just hidden behind her back. "You gonna try and kill me?"

Her laugh carried the same maniacal edge that Monica's had. "Oh no, Maxie. Not yet…I want to hurt you first."

_A guy already beat you to it,_ Max thought as she rolled her eyes. She backed up as Clarissa came forward, always trying to keep a piece of furniture between them. "And how do you think you can accomplish that? I nearly lost my arm; I lost people I cared about! What the hell is left?"

Clarissa revealed what she'd been hiding. It was an old fashioned metal syringe with twin finger loops and a thick veterinary-style needle. She dodged around the coffee table, and Max barely had time to jump behind the couch.

_Close…too close…_

"I'm going to finish what Monica started, Maxie. I'm going to crown you the queen."

"That's not possible!" Max quickly, "Only another queen can do it!"

Clarissa showed Max her arm. There was a string of puncture wounds heading downward from her elbow. "It's not an easy thing to figure out, but I've got the technique down. You _will_ be queen, Max. And you'll be all alone, like Monica was. Will you go insane? Or will you turn all of your friends?" She snickered, "Or will you go after the Winchesters first?"

"Keep them out of this, Clarissa," Max snapped.

Clarissa continued, "What will you do to survive Max? Monica told me that not everything goes away. You'll remember them. You'll remember everything you've done, and you won't be able to stop yourself."

Max hit something solid; she felt the warm glass of her window behind her. "Great location O'Reilly," She grumbled, and dodged to the side as Clarissa leapt at her. Max aimed a kick for her knee, but Clarissa moved, and Max's boot hit her in the calf. "Dammit!" Max muttered, as Clarissa grabbed her left arm, tearing stitches.

Max was thrown to the ground, and Clarissa stood over her. "Where's the frickin' cavalry when you need it?" she grumbled, as she blocked Clarissa's dives with the syringe.

_You will be avenged, Queen Monica, I promised you she would pay!_

Clarissa had no psychic ability, and she spat the words directly into Max's mind without even realizing it. Max found her weapon when she heard footsteps thundering into the room. "Now the reinforcements come," She grumbled.

"Max!" A familiar voice called.

"Dean?" Max asked, confused.

His voice also distracted Clarissa, and Max was able to shove her off. Both were on their feet, and Clarissa advanced again. A gunshot rang out, and the force knocked Clarissa through one of the windows. Max stared in shock for a few seconds, then swallowed roughly, and looked out the window.

"Max?" Dean asked tentatively.

"She's gone," Max said, wide-eyed.

"Yeah…I shot her," Dean said, walking up beside her and glancing at the ground, "And then she fell out and—oh my god she's gone!" He yelled, eyes widening at the sight below.

Large puddles of blood were drying on the ground, three floors below. But Clarissa, who should be lying on the sidewalk in a mangled mess, was nowhere to be found.

Justin and Rob stood in the doorway, behind Sam. All three were shocked, "She's _gone?_"

"I'm going down there then," Rob said, "She shouldn't have survived that! That's a three-story drop after all."

"I'll go with you," Sam said, hooking his gun into the waistband of his jeans.

He and Rob left, leaving Justin, Dean, and Max in the room, alone.

"Are you okay, Max?" Justin asked, quickly pulling her into his arms.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Max said, swallowing roughly.

"You should've let one of us stay with you," Justin shook his head, letting her go.

Max's gaze was on Dean, "Justin, can you leave us alone for a minute?"

"I don't think so," Justin said.

"Justin," Max said, "Deadeye here just blasted Clarissa through the window. I think I'll be safe from harm with him in the room."

Justin looked at Dean, and didn't even try to hide the scowl. "Say your piece, and get lost." He cast another glare at Dean, before closing the door behind him.

"He never did like me too much," Dean frowned, tugging at his collar.

"Can you blame him?" Max asked, folding her arms.

"You're bleeding," Dean stepped forward.

Max took a step back, "It's fine. Clarissa just pulled a few stitches is all."

Dean gave a nod, and stepped back to his place. "I should go…"

"Before you go," Max said, "How 'bout giving me my Green Day tape back?"

"Ah…you see, I can explain about that—" Dean began.

"Oh? How 'bout while you're at it you explain why you came back in the first place," Max snapped.

"The girl that took the swan dive out the window," Dean admitted. "I was worried someone might go after you."

"Well…good job," Max nodded. "You saved my ass _again_. I guess your job is done here, _again_." She frowned, "So, when shall I expect the voicemail message? Tomorrow night, or later on this afternoon?"

"I had that coming," Dean flinched.

"That is an understatement."

An awkward silence followed.

"Um…" Dean said, trying to break the silence, "What ever happened to that Quinn guy?"

"Someone shot him execution-style and dropped him by the side of I-25," Max answered.

"Um…that's, ah…" He didn't get to finish, Max's palm collided with the side of his face with a loud CRACK! Dean spun around from the force of it, "Ow!"

Tears dripped down Max's cheeks, and she hastily wiped them away.

"This isn't working…" Dean said, his cheek still stinging from the hit.

"You think?" Max asked. "I thought things were just hunky dory!"

Dean looked at her, then started laughing. Max shook her head, and also burst out laughing.

"I…" Dean finally sobered up, "I really have no idea why this is so funny."

Max nodded, "Yeah, neither do I."

"You're still bleeding," Dean pointed out.

The area from the torn stitches was dripping blood, creating small puddles on the floor. "Yeah…I probably should get this looked at…" She shuddered slightly, "Unfortunately I'm a little more focused on Clarissa and that syringe…"

"Back to square one then," Dean said. "Looks like you're gonna need our help again."

"What makes you think I even _want_ your help this time?" Max asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"You didn't really want our help the first time," Dean pointed out.

Max sighed, then shook her head, "You know, I really should be kicking your ass right now."

"Aww, come on," Dean smiled, "You love me too much."

Max rolled her eyes, "You're unbelievable."

"That I am, baby," Dean smirked, "That I am."

Max shook her head again, and headed for her kitchen, wrapping a towel around her bleeding arm. Dean's smirk faded, and neither said a word. An awkward silence filled the room.

"So," Dean asked, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Where do we go from here?"


End file.
